#feb24 — Public Fediverse posts

Call to Action #Feb24: Protest at Congressman Tom McClintock's Modesto Office, February 24th at 10 am “Nobody elected Musk” #3E #USprotests

Stuck in the Filter: February 2024’s Angry Misses

By Angry Metal Guy

Ah yes, February. Wait, what? It’s almost MAY!!! Who approved this two-months-late bullshit?

Oh… right, that would be me. Shit.

Well, you know, sometimes life gets in the fucking way, you know? It’s been rough days, and I know I’m not the only one struggling. With 2024 on such a rocky start, it should come as no surprise that we grasp desperately for media to help us escape and find solace in the art of others. Unfortunately for my Filter minions, they don’t get to escape from the mire and muck of the neglected filtration system from which we find what could be generously described as “art.”

Undeterred, we soldier on. And as we do, we find those nuggets of goodness-but-just-shy-of-greatness which help us survive one more day in this unforgiving world. May you find something in these selections that helps you survive, too!

Kenstrosity’s Murdery Deathkillers

Aesthetic // An Enigmatic Creation [February 16th, 2024 – Self Release]

Spanish melodic death metal troupe Aesthetic have been kicking since 2000, but the aptly named An Enigmatic Creation is only their second LP. This record is one strange beast, because for almost anybody with working ears, myself included (ostensibly), it’s almost unlistenable. Entirely the result of a production that makes the album sound like it was recorded with copper instruments inside an oversized tin can, An Enigmatic Creation tests the boundaries of human enjoyment by way of unforgivably boomy drums and guitars, far too forward vocals, and a snare tone that for all intents and purposes is the equivalent of smacking the lid of an aluminum trash can with your palm. However, with the exception of one cringe-worthy, spoken-word travesty entitled “A Strange Encounter,” every song offered here is a straight-up banger. Vivacious Bal-Sagoth/Kull riffing meets Brymir‘s adventurous spirit, a tidal wave of blackened tremolos, and a chorus of melodious bells, all filtered through a nautical-sounding aesthetic reminiscent of Sulphur Aeon’s Gateway to the Antisphere. Songs like the titular opener, “Vanishing Memories,” “Flashes of Clarity,” and “This Neverending Nightmare” prove that Aesthetic know how to write killer tunes with tons of variety and myriad points of interest. It’s a shame An Enigmatic Creation’s bewildering production almost ruins it, but the artistry behind these compositions leaves me stunned and thirsty for more.

Volucrine // ETNA [February 16th, 2024 – Inverse Records]

Finnish progressive death metal group Volucrine caught me by surprise this year. If I remember correctly, I first encountered third album ETNA while scrolling my Bandcamp feed, attracted by its unique and captivating cover art. A fellow Discordian then reminded me of it in passing, leading me to spin it almost nonstop for an entire day. Progressive death metal with potentially divisive and idiosyncratic vocals lands Volucrine in the same camp as bands like The Odious and Omnivortex circa Diagrams of Consciousness, rounded out with a gentle twist of Coheed and Cambria’s bright earnestness (“Old Friend”). Fortunately, Volucrine’s songwriting flexibility helps ETNA stand out. Early hits like the thrashy “Riptide,” the In Mourning-esque “Combatant,” and “Scarred Earth” function successfully as an impressive portfolio of Volucrine’s talent and skill. While this means ETNA’s first half contains much variety, it compromises cohesion to meet that quota. However, the back half, featuring killers like “Bloodsport,” “Godsized,” and “Escapist,” prioritizes continuity above all else. An interesting strategy, honing in on developing steady and consistent momentum in the back allows ETNA’s forty-seven minutes to feel more like an even forty, thereby making revisits effortless. ETNA’s unorthodox packaging, combined with Volucrine’s twisting and unpredictable songwriting, results in one seriously creative, interesting, and entertaining record!

Atoll // Inhuman Implants [February 23rd, 2024 – Unique Leader Records]

Phoenix, Arizona five-banger1 Atoll chug along at a brisk pace, releasing new LP’s with remarkable velocity over the course of their short decade of existence so far. Clocking in for its shift as Mambo Album No. 5, Inhuman Implants is yet another relentlessly brutal, slamming death metal assault. Doing absolutely goddamn nothing differently compared to anything else in their discography, this record will beat you to within an inch of your life, infect you with virulently memorable slams, and then leave your bruised and battered body in the gutter (“Autonomic Autosarcophagy,” “Vomit Altar,” “Missionary Opposition”). Chunky rhythms (“Berdella of Blood,” “Primordial Rage”) and swaggering beatdowns (“Husks”) allow this record to retain a notably smooth momentum from start to finish, which in turns makes this respectably tight twenty-nine minutes instantly replayable. But of course, this wouldn’t be a slam record without slamples, and Atoll deliver here as well. Album highlight “Gay for God” earns its highlight status in part due to it’s incredible It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to South Park to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia-again triple-slample that I’ve got officially penned in my handy-dandy notebook as a… [checks notes]… certified banger. If you should need any further information on Inhuman Implants, you may send your request to my boot on its trajectory to your curb-kissing jaw.

Tales From the Garden

Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine [February 23rd, 2024 – Napalm Records]

Monkey3 has been around a while. Over 20 years on the market, with a discography running 7 studio albums deep today, the Swiss quartet’s impact has remained modest. Listening to Welcome to the Machine, I have to wonder why. The market for instrumental bands is a bit limited, granted, but not many bands can strike the balance between free-form space rock jams and colossal tidal wave post-metal riffs this well. The slow build on the first half of “Rackman” is superb, growing in gravity as it collects orbital detritus while holding fast to a solid central core, but the second half shifts gears and sounds like it could dual as a soundtrack for Blade Runner or Cyberpunk 2077. If there was any doubt the album title referred to Pink Floyd, the opening stretch for “Collapse” contains some clever, tasteful nods to “Time,” and the incredible wealth of solos strewn across the running time draws from Gilmour and contemporaries alike. It takes a lot to get me invested in a guitar solo these days, but Monkey3 shows incredible expertise at keeping solos interesting through great performances and captivating songwriting. An all-around masterclass at instrumental space-rock, every prog fan owes themselves a spin of Welcome to the Machine.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Twelve-Step Tee Off

Crippling Alcoholism // With Love from a Padded Room [February 29th, 2024 – Self Release]

If a song by the forcefully titled Crippling Alcoholism popped into a playlist when you weren’t looking, its jangly post-rock leads, melancholic refrains, and rock steady rhythms may not register right away as the air-sucking void that lurks about the unpredictable turns throughout With Love from a Padded Room. Its title serves a snippet of the album’s theme: the reimagining of a prisoner’s story as told from solitary confinement. Though a few tracks feature the back and forth of a distant guest vocalist, a majority of this hour’s worth of snarling, pitch-shifted, starkly-reverbed, and dead-faced diatribes feature as an unkempt solo breakdown to maintain the unsettling mood. Stylistically a melange of spearing-synth depressive rock (“Otessa,” “Rough Sleepers”), modern Murder Ballads goth shuffles (“Evil Has a Babyface,” “Sav”), and metal-fringed left-field swings (“Red Looks Good on Him,” “Mob Dad”), With Love avoids striking twice in the same lane to give each character its own space to fester and boil over. And, if you listen with just a little bit of attention, you can make out how truly horrifying Crippling Alcoholism has crafted these vignettes. Whether you come for the music and stay for the macabre or latch onto to the bloody details and nightmare fuel cover despite this hard-to-tag adventure straying away from the comfort of riffs and solos, Crippling Alcoholism can find a powerful hold on your musical journey if you let it. Pairs well with meth., King Woman, Sunrise Patriot Motion, and extended dissociation.2.

Dear Hollow’s Blackened Booty

Nocturnal Sorcery // Captive in the Breath of Life [February 9th, 2024 – KVLT Records]

From the cover to the moniker to the record label, you can probably guess what Nocturnal Sorcery sounds like. Captive in the Breath of Life, the Finnish trio’s second full-length since 2011, offers the bounty of blackened arts in nearly the exact form that you expect it sound like. Cold and raw tremolo, manic shrieks, and blastbeats are all unholy partakers in this trinity of second-wave worship, but thanks to formidable composition, powerful performances, and a willingness to focus on what they can control, Captive in the Breath of Life is everything you love (or hate) about traditionalist black metal. While Nocturnal Sorcery is bloated in a few too many interlude tracks and fluff over its forty-nine-minute length, tracks like “Oath at Mt. Hermon,” “Cry of the Wounded Heaven,” “Joyless Dance in the Shadow,” and “Beyond Salvation” are blackened rippers that toe the line between punishment, catchiness, and frigidity – solidly written flow between blazing riffs and passages of slower reverie with jagged teeth bared. More patient epics take the cake, tracks like “Captive in the Breath of Life,” “Damned by the Law of the Stars,” and true closer “Lucifer’s Shade.” Sure, it’s black metal, but its bulletproof compositions don’t pretend to be anything more, so Nocturnal Sorcery offers a grim ‘n cold occult trip to the 90’s with Captive in the Breath of Life for those interested.

#2024 #Aesthetic #AmericanMetal #AnEnigmaticCreation #AtollInhumanImplants #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #Brymir #CaptiveInTheBreathOfLife #CoheedAndCambria #CripplingAlcoholism #DeathMetal #Deathcore #ETNA #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #GothicMetal #GothicRock #InMourning #InverseRecords #KingWoman #Kull #KVLTRecords #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Meth_ #Monkey3 #NapalmRecords #NocturnalSorcery #Omnivortex #PinkFloyd #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #SelfReleased #Slam #SpanishMetal #StuckInTheFilter #SulphurAeon #SunrisePatriotMotion #SwissMetal #TheOdious #UniqueLeaderRecords #Volucrine #WelcomeToTheMachine #WithLoveFromAPaddedRoom

Stuck in the Filter: February 2024’s Angry Misses

By Angry Metal Guy

Ah yes, February. Wait, what? It’s almost MAY!!! Who approved this two-months-late bullshit?

Oh… right, that would be me. Shit.

Well, you know, sometimes life gets in the fucking way, you know? It’s been rough days, and I know I’m not the only one struggling. With 2024 on such a rocky start, it should come as no surprise that we grasp desperately for media to help us escape and find solace in the art of others. Unfortunately for my Filter minions, they don’t get to escape from the mire and muck of the neglected filtration system from which we find what could be generously described as “art.”

Undeterred, we soldier on. And as we do, we find those nuggets of goodness-but-just-shy-of-greatness which help us survive one more day in this unforgiving world. May you find something in these selections that helps you survive, too!

Kenstrosity’s Murdery Deathkillers

Aesthetic // An Enigmatic Creation [February 16th, 2024 – Self Release]

Spanish melodic death metal troupe Aesthetic have been kicking since 2000, but the aptly named An Enigmatic Creation is only their second LP. This record is one strange beast, because for almost anybody with working ears, myself included (ostensibly), it’s almost unlistenable. Entirely the result of a production that makes the album sound like it was recorded with copper instruments inside an oversized tin can, An Enigmatic Creation tests the boundaries of human enjoyment by way of unforgivably boomy drums and guitars, far too forward vocals, and a snare tone that for all intents and purposes is the equivalent of smacking the lid of an aluminum trash can with your palm. However, with the exception of one cringe-worthy, spoken-word travesty entitled “A Strange Encounter,” every song offered here is a straight-up banger. Vivacious Bal-Sagoth/Kull riffing meets Brymir‘s adventurous spirit, a tidal wave of blackened tremolos, and a chorus of melodious bells, all filtered through a nautical-sounding aesthetic reminiscent of Sulphur Aeon’s Gateway to the Antisphere. Songs like the titular opener, “Vanishing Memories,” “Flashes of Clarity,” and “This Neverending Nightmare” prove that Aesthetic know how to write killer tunes with tons of variety and myriad points of interest. It’s a shame An Enigmatic Creation’s bewildering production almost ruins it, but the artistry behind these compositions leaves me stunned and thirsty for more.

Volucrine // ETNA [February 16th, 2024 – Inverse Records]

Finnish progressive death metal group Volucrine caught me by surprise this year. If I remember correctly, I first encountered third album ETNA while scrolling my Bandcamp feed, attracted by its unique and captivating cover art. A fellow Discordian then reminded me of it in passing, leading me to spin it almost nonstop for an entire day. Progressive death metal with potentially divisive and idiosyncratic vocals lands Volucrine in the same camp as bands like The Odious and Omnivortex circa Diagrams of Consciousness, rounded out with a gentle twist of Coheed and Cambria’s bright earnestness (“Old Friend”). Fortunately, Volucrine’s songwriting flexibility helps ETNA stand out. Early hits like the thrashy “Riptide,” the In Mourning-esque “Combatant,” and “Scarred Earth” function successfully as an impressive portfolio of Volucrine’s talent and skill. While this means ETNA’s first half contains much variety, it compromises cohesion to meet that quota. However, the back half, featuring killers like “Bloodsport,” “Godsized,” and “Escapist,” prioritizes continuity above all else. An interesting strategy, honing in on developing steady and consistent momentum in the back allows ETNA’s forty-seven minutes to feel more like an even forty, thereby making revisits effortless. ETNA’s unorthodox packaging, combined with Volucrine’s twisting and unpredictable songwriting, results in one seriously creative, interesting, and entertaining record!

Atoll // Inhuman Implants [February 23rd, 2024 – Unique Leader Records]

Phoenix, Arizona five-banger1 Atoll chug along at a brisk pace, releasing new LP’s with remarkable velocity over the course of their short decade of existence so far. Clocking in for its shift as Mambo Album No. 5, Inhuman Implants is yet another relentlessly brutal, slamming death metal assault. Doing absolutely goddamn nothing differently compared to anything else in their discography, this record will beat you to within an inch of your life, infect you with virulently memorable slams, and then leave your bruised and battered body in the gutter (“Autonomic Autosarcophagy,” “Vomit Altar,” “Missionary Opposition”). Chunky rhythms (“Berdella of Blood,” “Primordial Rage”) and swaggering beatdowns (“Husks”) allow this record to retain a notably smooth momentum from start to finish, which in turns makes this respectably tight twenty-nine minutes instantly replayable. But of course, this wouldn’t be a slam record without slamples, and Atoll deliver here as well. Album highlight “Gay for God” earns its highlight status in part due to it’s incredible It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to South Park to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia-again triple-slample that I’ve got officially penned in my handy-dandy notebook as a… [checks notes]… certified banger. If you should need any further information on Inhuman Implants, you may send your request to my boot on its trajectory to your curb-kissing jaw.

Tales From the Garden

Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine [February 23rd, 2024 – Napalm Records]

Monkey3 has been around a while. Over 20 years on the market, with a discography running 7 studio albums deep today, the Swiss quartet’s impact has remained modest. Listening to Welcome to the Machine, I have to wonder why. The market for instrumental bands is a bit limited, granted, but not many bands can strike the balance between free-form space rock jams and colossal tidal wave post-metal riffs this well. The slow build on the first half of “Rackman” is superb, growing in gravity as it collects orbital detritus while holding fast to a solid central core, but the second half shifts gears and sounds like it could dual as a soundtrack for Blade Runner or Cyberpunk 2077. If there was any doubt the album title referred to Pink Floyd, the opening stretch for “Collapse” contains some clever, tasteful nods to “Time,” and the incredible wealth of solos strewn across the running time draws from Gilmour and contemporaries alike. It takes a lot to get me invested in a guitar solo these days, but Monkey3 shows incredible expertise at keeping solos interesting through great performances and captivating songwriting. An all-around masterclass at instrumental space-rock, every prog fan owes themselves a spin of Welcome to the Machine.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Twelve-Step Tee Off

Crippling Alcoholism // With Love from a Padded Room [February 29th, 2024 – Self Release]

If a song by the forcefully titled Crippling Alcoholism popped into a playlist when you weren’t looking, its jangly post-rock leads, melancholic refrains, and rock steady rhythms may not register right away as the air-sucking void that lurks about the unpredictable turns throughout With Love from a Padded Room. Its title serves a snippet of the album’s theme: the reimagining of a prisoner’s story as told from solitary confinement. Though a few tracks feature the back and forth of a distant guest vocalist, a majority of this hour’s worth of snarling, pitch-shifted, starkly-reverbed, and dead-faced diatribes feature as an unkempt solo breakdown to maintain the unsettling mood. Stylistically a melange of spearing-synth depressive rock (“Otessa,” “Rough Sleepers”), modern Murder Ballads goth shuffles (“Evil Has a Babyface,” “Sav”), and metal-fringed left-field swings (“Red Looks Good on Him,” “Mob Dad”), With Love avoids striking twice in the same lane to give each character its own space to fester and boil over. And, if you listen with just a little bit of attention, you can make out how truly horrifying Crippling Alcoholism has crafted these vignettes. Whether you come for the music and stay for the macabre or latch onto to the bloody details and nightmare fuel cover despite this hard-to-tag adventure straying away from the comfort of riffs and solos, Crippling Alcoholism can find a powerful hold on your musical journey if you let it. Pairs well with meth., King Woman, Sunrise Patriot Motion, and extended dissociation.2.

Dear Hollow’s Blackened Booty

Nocturnal Sorcery // Captive in the Breath of Life [February 9th, 2024 – KVLT Records]

From the cover to the moniker to the record label, you can probably guess what Nocturnal Sorcery sounds like. Captive in the Breath of Life, the Finnish trio’s second full-length since 2011, offers the bounty of blackened arts in nearly the exact form that you expect it sound like. Cold and raw tremolo, manic shrieks, and blastbeats are all unholy partakers in this trinity of second-wave worship, but thanks to formidable composition, powerful performances, and a willingness to focus on what they can control, Captive in the Breath of Life is everything you love (or hate) about traditionalist black metal. While Nocturnal Sorcery is bloated in a few too many interlude tracks and fluff over its forty-nine-minute length, tracks like “Oath at Mt. Hermon,” “Cry of the Wounded Heaven,” “Joyless Dance in the Shadow,” and “Beyond Salvation” are blackened rippers that toe the line between punishment, catchiness, and frigidity – solidly written flow between blazing riffs and passages of slower reverie with jagged teeth bared. More patient epics take the cake, tracks like “Captive in the Breath of Life,” “Damned by the Law of the Stars,” and true closer “Lucifer’s Shade.” Sure, it’s black metal, but its bulletproof compositions don’t pretend to be anything more, so Nocturnal Sorcery offers a grim ‘n cold occult trip to the 90’s with Captive in the Breath of Life for those interested.

#2024 #Aesthetic #AmericanMetal #AnEnigmaticCreation #AtollInhumanImplants #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #Brymir #CaptiveInTheBreathOfLife #CoheedAndCambria #CripplingAlcoholism #DeathMetal #Deathcore #ETNA #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #GothicMetal #GothicRock #InMourning #InverseRecords #KingWoman #Kull #KVLTRecords #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Meth_ #Monkey3 #NapalmRecords #NocturnalSorcery #Omnivortex #PinkFloyd #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #SelfReleased #Slam #SpanishMetal #StuckInTheFilter #SulphurAeon #SunrisePatriotMotion #SwissMetal #TheOdious #UniqueLeaderRecords #Volucrine #WelcomeToTheMachine #WithLoveFromAPaddedRoom

Stuck in the Filter: February 2024’s Angry Misses

By Angry Metal Guy

Ah yes, February. Wait, what? It’s almost MAY!!! Who approved this two-months-late bullshit?

Oh… right, that would be me. Shit.

Well, you know, sometimes life gets in the fucking way, you know? It’s been rough days, and I know I’m not the only one struggling. With 2024 on such a rocky start, it should come as no surprise that we grasp desperately for media to help us escape and find solace in the art of others. Unfortunately for my Filter minions, they don’t get to escape from the mire and muck of the neglected filtration system from which we find what could be generously described as “art.”

Undeterred, we soldier on. And as we do, we find those nuggets of goodness-but-just-shy-of-greatness which help us survive one more day in this unforgiving world. May you find something in these selections that helps you survive, too!

Kenstrosity’s Murdery Deathkillers

Aesthetic // An Enigmatic Creation [February 16th, 2024 – Self Release]

Spanish melodic death metal troupe Aesthetic have been kicking since 2000, but the aptly named An Enigmatic Creation is only their second LP. This record is one strange beast, because for almost anybody with working ears, myself included (ostensibly), it’s almost unlistenable. Entirely the result of a production that makes the album sound like it was recorded with copper instruments inside an oversized tin can, An Enigmatic Creation tests the boundaries of human enjoyment by way of unforgivably boomy drums and guitars, far too forward vocals, and a snare tone that for all intents and purposes is the equivalent of smacking the lid of an aluminum trash can with your palm. However, with the exception of one cringe-worthy, spoken-word travesty entitled “A Strange Encounter,” every song offered here is a straight-up banger. Vivacious Bal-Sagoth/Kull riffing meets Brymir‘s adventurous spirit, a tidal wave of blackened tremolos, and a chorus of melodious bells, all filtered through a nautical-sounding aesthetic reminiscent of Sulphur Aeon’s Gateway to the Antisphere. Songs like the titular opener, “Vanishing Memories,” “Flashes of Clarity,” and “This Neverending Nightmare” prove that Aesthetic know how to write killer tunes with tons of variety and myriad points of interest. It’s a shame An Enigmatic Creation’s bewildering production almost ruins it, but the artistry behind these compositions leaves me stunned and thirsty for more.

Volucrine // ETNA [February 16th, 2024 – Inverse Records]

Finnish progressive death metal group Volucrine caught me by surprise this year. If I remember correctly, I first encountered third album ETNA while scrolling my Bandcamp feed, attracted by its unique and captivating cover art. A fellow Discordian then reminded me of it in passing, leading me to spin it almost nonstop for an entire day. Progressive death metal with potentially divisive and idiosyncratic vocals lands Volucrine in the same camp as bands like The Odious and Omnivortex circa Diagrams of Consciousness, rounded out with a gentle twist of Coheed and Cambria’s bright earnestness (“Old Friend”). Fortunately, Volucrine’s songwriting flexibility helps ETNA stand out. Early hits like the thrashy “Riptide,” the In Mourning-esque “Combatant,” and “Scarred Earth” function successfully as an impressive portfolio of Volucrine’s talent and skill. While this means ETNA’s first half contains much variety, it compromises cohesion to meet that quota. However, the back half, featuring killers like “Bloodsport,” “Godsized,” and “Escapist,” prioritizes continuity above all else. An interesting strategy, honing in on developing steady and consistent momentum in the back allows ETNA’s forty-seven minutes to feel more like an even forty, thereby making revisits effortless. ETNA’s unorthodox packaging, combined with Volucrine’s twisting and unpredictable songwriting, results in one seriously creative, interesting, and entertaining record!

Atoll // Inhuman Implants [February 23rd, 2024 – Unique Leader Records]

Phoenix, Arizona five-banger1 Atoll chug along at a brisk pace, releasing new LP’s with remarkable velocity over the course of their short decade of existence so far. Clocking in for its shift as Mambo Album No. 5, Inhuman Implants is yet another relentlessly brutal, slamming death metal assault. Doing absolutely goddamn nothing differently compared to anything else in their discography, this record will beat you to within an inch of your life, infect you with virulently memorable slams, and then leave your bruised and battered body in the gutter (“Autonomic Autosarcophagy,” “Vomit Altar,” “Missionary Opposition”). Chunky rhythms (“Berdella of Blood,” “Primordial Rage”) and swaggering beatdowns (“Husks”) allow this record to retain a notably smooth momentum from start to finish, which in turns makes this respectably tight twenty-nine minutes instantly replayable. But of course, this wouldn’t be a slam record without slamples, and Atoll deliver here as well. Album highlight “Gay for God” earns its highlight status in part due to it’s incredible It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to South Park to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia-again triple-slample that I’ve got officially penned in my handy-dandy notebook as a… [checks notes]… certified banger. If you should need any further information on Inhuman Implants, you may send your request to my boot on its trajectory to your curb-kissing jaw.

Tales From the Garden

Monkey3 // Welcome to the Machine [February 23rd, 2024 – Napalm Records]

Monkey3 has been around a while. Over 20 years on the market, with a discography running 7 studio albums deep today, the Swiss quartet’s impact has remained modest. Listening to Welcome to the Machine, I have to wonder why. The market for instrumental bands is a bit limited, granted, but not many bands can strike the balance between free-form space rock jams and colossal tidal wave post-metal riffs this well. The slow build on the first half of “Rackman” is superb, growing in gravity as it collects orbital detritus while holding fast to a solid central core, but the second half shifts gears and sounds like it could dual as a soundtrack for Blade Runner or Cyberpunk 2077. If there was any doubt the album title referred to Pink Floyd, the opening stretch for “Collapse” contains some clever, tasteful nods to “Time,” and the incredible wealth of solos strewn across the running time draws from Gilmour and contemporaries alike. It takes a lot to get me invested in a guitar solo these days, but Monkey3 shows incredible expertise at keeping solos interesting through great performances and captivating songwriting. An all-around masterclass at instrumental space-rock, every prog fan owes themselves a spin of Welcome to the Machine.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Twelve-Step Tee Off

Crippling Alcoholism // With Love from a Padded Room [February 29th, 2024 – Self Release]

If a song by the forcefully titled Crippling Alcoholism popped into a playlist when you weren’t looking, its jangly post-rock leads, melancholic refrains, and rock steady rhythms may not register right away as the air-sucking void that lurks about the unpredictable turns throughout With Love from a Padded Room. Its title serves a snippet of the album’s theme: the reimagining of a prisoner’s story as told from solitary confinement. Though a few tracks feature the back and forth of a distant guest vocalist, a majority of this hour’s worth of snarling, pitch-shifted, starkly-reverbed, and dead-faced diatribes feature as an unkempt solo breakdown to maintain the unsettling mood. Stylistically a melange of spearing-synth depressive rock (“Otessa,” “Rough Sleepers”), modern Murder Ballads goth shuffles (“Evil Has a Babyface,” “Sav”), and metal-fringed left-field swings (“Red Looks Good on Him,” “Mob Dad”), With Love avoids striking twice in the same lane to give each character its own space to fester and boil over. And, if you listen with just a little bit of attention, you can make out how truly horrifying Crippling Alcoholism has crafted these vignettes. Whether you come for the music and stay for the macabre or latch onto to the bloody details and nightmare fuel cover despite this hard-to-tag adventure straying away from the comfort of riffs and solos, Crippling Alcoholism can find a powerful hold on your musical journey if you let it. Pairs well with meth., King Woman, Sunrise Patriot Motion, and extended dissociation.2.

Dear Hollow’s Blackened Booty

Nocturnal Sorcery // Captive in the Breath of Life [February 9th, 2024 – KVLT Records]

From the cover to the moniker to the record label, you can probably guess what Nocturnal Sorcery sounds like. Captive in the Breath of Life, the Finnish trio’s second full-length since 2011, offers the bounty of blackened arts in nearly the exact form that you expect it sound like. Cold and raw tremolo, manic shrieks, and blastbeats are all unholy partakers in this trinity of second-wave worship, but thanks to formidable composition, powerful performances, and a willingness to focus on what they can control, Captive in the Breath of Life is everything you love (or hate) about traditionalist black metal. While Nocturnal Sorcery is bloated in a few too many interlude tracks and fluff over its forty-nine-minute length, tracks like “Oath at Mt. Hermon,” “Cry of the Wounded Heaven,” “Joyless Dance in the Shadow,” and “Beyond Salvation” are blackened rippers that toe the line between punishment, catchiness, and frigidity – solidly written flow between blazing riffs and passages of slower reverie with jagged teeth bared. More patient epics take the cake, tracks like “Captive in the Breath of Life,” “Damned by the Law of the Stars,” and true closer “Lucifer’s Shade.” Sure, it’s black metal, but its bulletproof compositions don’t pretend to be anything more, so Nocturnal Sorcery offers a grim ‘n cold occult trip to the 90’s with Captive in the Breath of Life for those interested.

#2024 #Aesthetic #AmericanMetal #AnEnigmaticCreation #AtollInhumanImplants #BalSagoth #BlackMetal #Brymir #CaptiveInTheBreathOfLife #CoheedAndCambria #CripplingAlcoholism #DeathMetal #Deathcore #ETNA #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #GothicMetal #GothicRock #InMourning #InverseRecords #KingWoman #Kull #KVLTRecords #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Meth_ #Monkey3 #NapalmRecords #NocturnalSorcery #Omnivortex #PinkFloyd #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #PsychedelicRock #Review #Reviews #Rock #SelfReleased #Slam #SpanishMetal #StuckInTheFilter #SulphurAeon #SunrisePatriotMotion #SwissMetal #TheOdious #UniqueLeaderRecords #Volucrine #WelcomeToTheMachine #WithLoveFromAPaddedRoom

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首

AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö: Save This Utility – 亡失 Deprivation

By Dolphin Whisperer

“AMG’s Unsigned Band Rodeö” is a time-honored tradition to showcase the most underground of the underground—the unsigned and unpromoted. This collective review treatment continues to exist to unite our writers in boot or bolster of the bands who remind us that, for better or worse, the metal underground exists as an important part of the global metal scene. The Rodeö rides on.”

New year, same ol’ Rodeö! As the inaugural unknown-spankin’ event of 2024, we shall take a moment to recognize the bands who put up the best fight in this unforgiving clown show. Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun may not have snagged first, but they did end up listing, a rare honor in these halls! However, despite that one enthusiastic supporter, Greek proglodytes Conspiracy of Zero stole the show with higher consistency in their Quo Vadis meets Cynic with a regional flair outing Ahthos Arouris. Haven’t checked it yet? Lucky you, now’s as good a time as ever!

But for our main course today, we have something different—something admittedly far more weird and avant-garde leaning. Perhaps if you’re familiar with the brand of brutal prog interwoven with experimental death metal and tasteful lounge jazz passages that unheralded Japanese act 五人一首 [Gonin-ish] pushes, you might feel a little at home with SAVE THIS UTILITY. This fledgling Kyoto-based troupe, though, seems to have their own inspirations, with a bassist whose seven-string prowess explores dutifully the realm of poppy Idol music and a guitarist who moonlights as a pumping rawstyle DJ. You might be wondering what this all adds up to in the context of a website that allegedly reviews metal. Well, read on if you dare. 亡失 Deprivation might just surprise you. – Dolphin Whisperer

SAVE THIS UTILITY // 亡失 Deprivation [February 5th, 2024]

El Cuervo: Save This Utility is about what you would expect from a Japanese band self-describing as avant-garde: weird as fuck. Deprivation pulls together unusual influences into an unexpected and unfamiliar release. While the unpredictable song structures and varying time signatures are pure prog, the guitar leads have a crunch and angularity drawn from mathcore. Likewise, the deathly roars lend things an extremer metal fringe, while the production has a clinical edge that tonally (if not musically) recalls industrial. And plenty of piano and synths paper over the cracks of the frantic song-writing. Inventive musical ideas are scattered throughout but the spectrum of sounds amalgamated is too wide for a cohesive, purposeful release; even for a novelty EP that only runs for a shade over thirty minutes. Similarly, those individual moments are fleeting and not constructed into compelling songs. As inventive and unexpected as everything is, I’m not left with an over-arching sense of the substance of this release. Can I recall a particular track? A particular riff? A particular melody? A particular emotion (other than bafflement)? The answer to each is no. Deprivation prizes style over substance, which leaves little to compel repeated listens. It does a lot, but doesn’t say a lot. 1.5/5.0

GardensTale: I tried, okay? I really, really tried. Iceberg waxed lyrically about this utterly confounding blob of free form jazz death so much, I felt like there had to be something there. I clawed my way through spin after spin of clashing melodies, weird throaty shouting, riffs going the wrong way, piano flourishes in random spots, repetition where you don’t expect it, the repetition stopping when you expect it to go on, a variety of synthy sounds inserted sideways and unlubed, and I can now say at my most confident that this really is not for me. I have an upper limit of jazz, and this is too much jazz. I recognize the talent of the musicians, and there is a certain dissonant allure to the weird bendy noises coming out of my speakers. But I can’t say I enjoy listening to the whole thing in one sitting. This is one you’re going to have to try for yourself; my score and my recommendation are going to be as useless as a review of the taste of grass, and only you can decide whether you’re a herbivore or not. 2.5/5.0

Dolphin Whisperer: Every now and then you stumble upon a piece of music that is as original as it also is a smart integration of various influences. 亡失 Deprivation somewhat mystified me at first but as I continued to dig through its layers of rich piano and synth melodies, understated but hypnotic rhythms, frolicking and popping bass runs, and marathon harmonic resolutions, I started to understand SAVE THIS UTILITY as the music-lovers they likely are. The peaceful yet powerful crescendo builds that these longer-form songs prance toward remind my ears of various Japanese math rock/post rock hybrid groups, like jizue or mouse on the keys. But also the kind of oscillating synth work from resonant patches, that imitate sounds similar to a vibraphone or a Rhodes piano, cross about soaring and searing guitar leads in a big prog Gonin-ish fashion. Even further these qualities intensify as SAVE THIS UTILITY ascends to clashing, warbling vocal harmonies that burst against bright instrumental peaks in an epic, whimsical tryst. On their previous debut full-length, some of these builds arose in a more melodeath-like fashion, with the harsh-clean trades feeling akin to late, experimental Dir en Grey work. And the synth composition felt incidental and circus-y—wacky video game music, perhaps. While this new EP still hosts an ominous growl against tension building chords, that death presence has grown from intrusion to atmosphere, which helps the hard-to-connect dots of each track’s individual pieces come together as a dream-like whole peaking in the fifteen minute closer “網目 Web.” And, as such, SAVE THIS UTILITY not only continues to command the tag ‘interesting’ but also ‘captivating.’ 亡失 Deprivation isn’t perfect by any means, but that wouldn’t be any fun now would it? 3.5/5.0

Iceberg: You remember that scene in the old Willy Wonka (1971) with all the psychedelic visuals where Gene Wilder keeps shouting “the danger must be growing?” SAVE THIS UTILITY’s EP Deprivation takes me right back to that sequence; terror and wonder, all wrapped up in a bad trip. If you can imagine a witches brew of The Mars Volta-flavored mathcore, Schoenbergian atonality, Sketches of Spain-era Miles Davis, and the instrumental noodling of Frank Zappa you might begin to get an idea of the world on display here. This amalgam of genres should be a jumbled mess—and I imagine many will think it is—but if you duck beneath the sound and fury there’s masterful structure and skill to be found. The tension of cluster chords1 and disjointed ostinati given release by crystalline synths in “Hollow,” the end of “Abandonment” draining melodic material into a horrifying black hole of noise and aleatoric rhythms; there’s magic written all over this album. All roads lead to the whopping 15 minute closer “Web,” a tour-de-force in long form writing that leaves me in awe every time I revisit it. This track wields dissonance and consonance like weapons, tearing apart traditional structure and tonality at will, only to piece it back together by it’s close. The only thing that bothers me here is a slightly muddled mix, but it hardly matters with this level of musical material. Fans of challenging and grotesque music should absolutely give SAVE THIS UTILITY a shot: this band is destined for great things. 4.0/5.0

Mystikus Hugebeard: 亡失 Deprivation, the newest album by Japanese avant-garde progressive metal act SAVE THIS UTILITY, is my initiation into the AMG Rodeö, and completely broke my brain the first few listens. At its core, 亡失 Deprivation is an album of complex, gritty textures, a jarring arrangement of music that falls into the “love it or hate it” category. The more transitory passages are the most fascinating to my ears; there are some compelling soundscapes to be found within the tense, dissonant guitars of “廃祀 Abandonment,” or the Glass Hammer-esque keyboard noodling and jazz pianos of “網目 Web.” My enjoyment breaks as the music grows heavier, and exponentially more chaotic. The zig-zag of the guitars is incongruous with the rhythm offered by the drums and the vocals, which alternate between brutal-death gurgles and shrieks. To the album’s credit, the conflicting layers of sound create a curious and novel musical texture that I would liken to sandpaper, but it becomes ear melting during the keyboards’ fire-alarm shrieking above the already cluttered heavy parts of “廃祀 Abandonment.” 亡失 Deprivation does have a nifty puzzle-box quality to it that I imagine some will enjoy picking apart and unraveling, but overall I find it just a little too obtuse to emotionally engage with. 2.5/5.0

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo #AngryMetalGuySUnsignedBandRodeo2024 #ArnoldSchoenberg #AvantGardeMetal #Deprivation #DirEnGrey #Feb24 #FrankZappa #GlassHammer #GoninIsh #JapaneseMetal #JazzFusion #jizue #MathRock #MilesDavis #mouseOnTheKeys #PostRock #ProgressiveMetal #SaveThisUtility #TheMarsVolta #WillyWonka #五人一首

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum – Of the Last Human Being Review

By GardensTale

It must have been 2005 or 2006 that I first came into contact with Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, one of the most beautifully bewildering bands to ever grace the globe. Constructed around a narrative of a fictional dadaist and futurist performance troupe, the one-of-a-kind group from Oakland gained a loyal cult following over the span of three records. After seeing half a show in 2007,1 I took home a T-shirt, and I still have a vivid memory of getting the most mind-blown reaction from a fellow fan in a random hallway.2 Sadly, the band dissolved before finishing their fourth album, Of the Last Human Being. Its members went on to other projects, like Rabbit Rabbit Radio and Free Salamander Exhibit, many of them good, none of them scratching the same itch. Until last year, when the band decided to pick up where they left off and finish the album with a little crowdfunding assistance.

And indeed, Of the Last Human Being sounds like the band never left. But what that sounds like beguiles description for the many people not privy to Sleepytime’s history. An absurd mixture of instruments, some of them home-made, conglomerates into a surreal nightmare, tethered to reality tenuously by the dulcet tones of mad preacher Nils Frykdahl and hissed insanity of Carla Kihlstedt, who often sing in duet to truly maddening effect. At turns you may be reminded of Mr. Bungle (“Save It!”), UneXpect (“S.P.Q.R.”) or the most unhinged tenets of Diablo Swing Orchestra (“We Must Know More”). Most of the time, it won’t remind you of anything at all. Kihlstedt’s violin frequently duels with the guitars in riffs and leads that always sound unnatural, but never sound aimless. Quieter moments conjure unease with xylophones and wind instruments while the lyrics hang around in the venn diagram where schizophrenic manifesto and poetry overlap.

Structurally, though, Of the Last Human Being is less beyond the pale, and it helps balance out the plethora of wildly imaginative textures and flourishes. “Salamander in Two Worlds” is a powerful opener, working its way up from hushed vocals and brass to a feverish, almost sludge-like cacophony with atypical, ricocheting percussion and tremolo riffs, yet featuring an actual chorus. “S.P.Q.R.” is even more frenzied, Frykdahl and Kihlstedt shouting an unhinged lecture on Romans in tandem, but repeat stanzas guard the track’s cohesion. This high energy stands in stark contrast with the quietly sanity-unspooling creepiness of “Silverfish,” featuring Kihlstedt quavering between bouts of shrill violin, or the sardonic grandstanding folk of “Old Grey Heron.” Even the shorter tracks and interludes spin bizarre imagery and leap from sad to surreal to sinister.

Though Sleepytime Gorilla Museum only has 3 prior albums to its name, it’s worth measuring Of the Last Human Being against these, if only to see whether the intervening years have done anything to diminish the troupe’s unique qualities. I‘m happy to say that they largely haven’t, though this comes with a few liner notes. Just like before the hiatus, this is heady music, and whether you’d call it pretentious is entirely dependent on your tolerance for theatrical excess, specifically with its dadaistic influences on full display, like a minute and a half of ringing bells serving as an interlude. Though, to this I should add, this might still be the most accessible album Sleepytime has ever made. In the context of all the weird, offbeat, and characteristic songs in the tracklist, “El Evil” sounds almost normal. I must admit I’m not terribly fond of “Hush, Hush,” and instrumental closer “Rose-Colored Song” could have done the same in half the length. But when you’re talking Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, lavishness has a tendency to become a virtue, and it’s still ever so pleasant a nightmare to wallow in.

Apparently, it’s an infectious stance, as I find myself writing with more color and more abundance and abandon than usual. Perhaps it’s the part of me that never believed I’d get to write this review. As a longtime fan, I am beyond thrilled that not only is Sleepytime Gorilla Museum back, but its music still has the same unique apocalyptic quality, even if it feels just a tad safer than the band’s prior output. As a reviewer, I am just as happy to be able to share my love for this band with thousands of readers, and tell you all with full conviction: step into the Museum of the Last Human Being, for it is an experience unlike any other, and a fantastic return for a most unique, extraordinary ensemble of musicians.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Avant Night
Websites: sleepytimegorillamuseum1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepytimegorillamuseum
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #AvantGarde #AvantNight #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Feb24 #FreeSalamanderExhibit #MrBungle #OfTheLastHumanBeing #RabbitRabbitRadio #Review #Reviews #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Unexpect

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum – Of the Last Human Being Review

By GardensTale

It must have been 2005 or 2006 that I first came into contact with Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, one of the most beautifully bewildering bands to ever grace the globe. Constructed around a narrative of a fictional dadaist and futurist performance troupe, the one-of-a-kind group from Oakland gained a loyal cult following over the span of three records. After seeing half a show in 2007,1 I took home a T-shirt, and I still have a vivid memory of getting the most mind-blown reaction from a fellow fan in a random hallway.2 Sadly, the band dissolved before finishing their fourth album, Of the Last Human Being. Its members went on to other projects, like Rabbit Rabbit Radio and Free Salamander Exhibit, many of them good, none of them scratching the same itch. Until last year, when the band decided to pick up where they left off and finish the album with a little crowdfunding assistance.

And indeed, Of the Last Human Being sounds like the band never left. But what that sounds like beguiles description for the many people not privy to Sleepytime’s history. An absurd mixture of instruments, some of them home-made, conglomerates into a surreal nightmare, tethered to reality tenuously by the dulcet tones of mad preacher Nils Frykdahl and hissed insanity of Carla Kihlstedt, who often sing in duet to truly maddening effect. At turns you may be reminded of Mr. Bungle (“Save It!”), UneXpect (“S.P.Q.R.”) or the most unhinged tenets of Diablo Swing Orchestra (“We Must Know More”). Most of the time, it won’t remind you of anything at all. Kihlstedt’s violin frequently duels with the guitars in riffs and leads that always sound unnatural, but never sound aimless. Quieter moments conjure unease with xylophones and wind instruments while the lyrics hang around in the venn diagram where schizophrenic manifesto and poetry overlap.

Structurally, though, Of the Last Human Being is less beyond the pale, and it helps balance out the plethora of wildly imaginative textures and flourishes. “Salamander in Two Worlds” is a powerful opener, working its way up from hushed vocals and brass to a feverish, almost sludge-like cacophony with atypical, ricocheting percussion and tremolo riffs, yet featuring an actual chorus. “S.P.Q.R.” is even more frenzied, Frykdahl and Kihlstedt shouting an unhinged lecture on Romans in tandem, but repeat stanzas guard the track’s cohesion. This high energy stands in stark contrast with the quietly sanity-unspooling creepiness of “Silverfish,” featuring Kihlstedt quavering between bouts of shrill violin, or the sardonic grandstanding folk of “Old Grey Heron.” Even the shorter tracks and interludes spin bizarre imagery and leap from sad to surreal to sinister.

Though Sleepytime Gorilla Museum only has 3 prior albums to its name, it’s worth measuring Of the Last Human Being against these, if only to see whether the intervening years have done anything to diminish the troupe’s unique qualities. I‘m happy to say that they largely haven’t, though this comes with a few liner notes. Just like before the hiatus, this is heady music, and whether you’d call it pretentious is entirely dependent on your tolerance for theatrical excess, specifically with its dadaistic influences on full display, like a minute and a half of ringing bells serving as an interlude. Though, to this I should add, this might still be the most accessible album Sleepytime has ever made. In the context of all the weird, offbeat, and characteristic songs in the tracklist, “El Evil” sounds almost normal. I must admit I’m not terribly fond of “Hush, Hush,” and instrumental closer “Rose-Colored Song” could have done the same in half the length. But when you’re talking Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, lavishness has a tendency to become a virtue, and it’s still ever so pleasant a nightmare to wallow in.

Apparently, it’s an infectious stance, as I find myself writing with more color and more abundance and abandon than usual. Perhaps it’s the part of me that never believed I’d get to write this review. As a longtime fan, I am beyond thrilled that not only is Sleepytime Gorilla Museum back, but its music still has the same unique apocalyptic quality, even if it feels just a tad safer than the band’s prior output. As a reviewer, I am just as happy to be able to share my love for this band with thousands of readers, and tell you all with full conviction: step into the Museum of the Last Human Being, for it is an experience unlike any other, and a fantastic return for a most unique, extraordinary ensemble of musicians.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Avant Night
Websites: sleepytimegorillamuseum1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepytimegorillamuseum
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #AvantGarde #AvantNight #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Feb24 #FreeSalamanderExhibit #MrBungle #OfTheLastHumanBeing #RabbitRabbitRadio #Review #Reviews #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Unexpect

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum – Of the Last Human Being Review

By GardensTale

It must have been 2005 or 2006 that I first came into contact with Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, one of the most beautifully bewildering bands to ever grace the globe. Constructed around a narrative of a fictional dadaist and futurist performance troupe, the one-of-a-kind group from Oakland gained a loyal cult following over the span of three records. After seeing half a show in 2007,1 I took home a T-shirt, and I still have a vivid memory of getting the most mind-blown reaction from a fellow fan in a random hallway.2 Sadly, the band dissolved before finishing their fourth album, Of the Last Human Being. Its members went on to other projects, like Rabbit Rabbit Radio and Free Salamander Exhibit, many of them good, none of them scratching the same itch. Until last year, when the band decided to pick up where they left off and finish the album with a little crowdfunding assistance.

And indeed, Of the Last Human Being sounds like the band never left. But what that sounds like beguiles description for the many people not privy to Sleepytime’s history. An absurd mixture of instruments, some of them home-made, conglomerates into a surreal nightmare, tethered to reality tenuously by the dulcet tones of mad preacher Nils Frykdahl and hissed insanity of Carla Kihlstedt, who often sing in duet to truly maddening effect. At turns you may be reminded of Mr. Bungle (“Save It!”), UneXpect (“S.P.Q.R.”) or the most unhinged tenets of Diablo Swing Orchestra (“We Must Know More”). Most of the time, it won’t remind you of anything at all. Kihlstedt’s violin frequently duels with the guitars in riffs and leads that always sound unnatural, but never sound aimless. Quieter moments conjure unease with xylophones and wind instruments while the lyrics hang around in the venn diagram where schizophrenic manifesto and poetry overlap.

Structurally, though, Of the Last Human Being is less beyond the pale, and it helps balance out the plethora of wildly imaginative textures and flourishes. “Salamander in Two Worlds” is a powerful opener, working its way up from hushed vocals and brass to a feverish, almost sludge-like cacophony with atypical, ricocheting percussion and tremolo riffs, yet featuring an actual chorus. “S.P.Q.R.” is even more frenzied, Frykdahl and Kihlstedt shouting an unhinged lecture on Romans in tandem, but repeat stanzas guard the track’s cohesion. This high energy stands in stark contrast with the quietly sanity-unspooling creepiness of “Silverfish,” featuring Kihlstedt quavering between bouts of shrill violin, or the sardonic grandstanding folk of “Old Grey Heron.” Even the shorter tracks and interludes spin bizarre imagery and leap from sad to surreal to sinister.

Though Sleepytime Gorilla Museum only has 3 prior albums to its name, it’s worth measuring Of the Last Human Being against these, if only to see whether the intervening years have done anything to diminish the troupe’s unique qualities. I‘m happy to say that they largely haven’t, though this comes with a few liner notes. Just like before the hiatus, this is heady music, and whether you’d call it pretentious is entirely dependent on your tolerance for theatrical excess, specifically with its dadaistic influences on full display, like a minute and a half of ringing bells serving as an interlude. Though, to this I should add, this might still be the most accessible album Sleepytime has ever made. In the context of all the weird, offbeat, and characteristic songs in the tracklist, “El Evil” sounds almost normal. I must admit I’m not terribly fond of “Hush, Hush,” and instrumental closer “Rose-Colored Song” could have done the same in half the length. But when you’re talking Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, lavishness has a tendency to become a virtue, and it’s still ever so pleasant a nightmare to wallow in.

Apparently, it’s an infectious stance, as I find myself writing with more color and more abundance and abandon than usual. Perhaps it’s the part of me that never believed I’d get to write this review. As a longtime fan, I am beyond thrilled that not only is Sleepytime Gorilla Museum back, but its music still has the same unique apocalyptic quality, even if it feels just a tad safer than the band’s prior output. As a reviewer, I am just as happy to be able to share my love for this band with thousands of readers, and tell you all with full conviction: step into the Museum of the Last Human Being, for it is an experience unlike any other, and a fantastic return for a most unique, extraordinary ensemble of musicians.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Avant Night
Websites: sleepytimegorillamuseum1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepytimegorillamuseum
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #AvantGarde #AvantNight #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Feb24 #FreeSalamanderExhibit #MrBungle #OfTheLastHumanBeing #RabbitRabbitRadio #Review #Reviews #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #Unexpect

Record(s) o’ the Month – February 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

The common wisdom about February in Sweden is that it’s the dreariest month; it’s long, it’s gray, it’s cold and it’s only standing between you and spring. At least in November you can look forward to Christmas, but February is just a long, bitter slog. I carried this attitude over to metal releases from the early winter months, as well. However, as I showed last month, January’s reputation for being slow appears to be incorrect. The same is true of February, apparently, if my lists are anything to go by.

In contrast to January, February seems to either hit or miss, with less in the middle range. February proffered, for example, few Honorable Mentions (just Frozen Dawn in 2023 and Ad Nauseam in 2021) and fewer #(ish)es (only Beyond the Red Mirror in 20151), while the only other February release that I ranked under #4 on my Top 10(ish) was Steven Wilson’s The Raven That Refused to Sing which came in at #9 in 2013. The top 4, on the other hand, has been flush with great February releases. Behemoth’s best album (yeah, I said it), The Satanist, was released in February of 2014 (and ranked at #4) and we first met Kvaen in February of 2020 and they, too, ranked at #4 at my RotY list in 2020. The highest ranked February record is the reigning Record o’ the Year from 2023, Carnosus’ brilliant Visions of Infinihility. But what struck me was that fully 30% of the #2s on my end of year list between 2013 and 2023 were February releases: Fleshgod Apocalypse’s uaaaautastic King (2016)2; Black Sites’ excellent debut record In Monochrome (2017); and Soen’s brilliant Lotus (2019).3

February 2024 was pretty fucking tedious and trying for me, at least personally. With another stint on the IL from an innocent little cold that turned out to pack a wallop and that knocked me down for nearly 3 weeks,4 there was plenty of time to passively assess the collective output of the metal scene via AngryMetalGuy.com. So, will any of these make it back around in December? Or is being miserable an insurmountable bias in my listening process? I guess only time will tell.

Borknagar, celebrating three decades of influence in black metal and beyond, continued to captivate fans with their latest album, Fall [February 23rd, 2024 | Century Media Records (Bandcamp)]. These Norwegians’ unyielding dedication has ensured a surprising consistency in quality throughout this time, with each lineup change resulting in a new record that belongs in the band’s pantheon of ‘bests.’ Fall revisits the band’s roots while maintaining their signature expansiveness and melody, and masterfully blend black metal ferocity with serene, atmospheric passages (like on “Summits” or “Moon”). And, as is often the case, it’s the contrasts between brooding melodies and aggressive riffs that makes Fall stand out from the crowd, both heavy and rich. And it’s just that, Fall’s diversity—from the heavy to the harmonious—that exemplifies the band’s well-balanced journey through time and genre. Borknagar continues to successfully blend the harsher elements of their past with the matured sound of recent years to great success. As our own Dr. A.N. Grier exclaimed, “After repeated listens, I still find something new in each of Fall’s songs. When compared to 2019’s True North, this release has more elements, greater progression, and better continuity.” It’s just a darn good record from a legendary band.

Runner(s) Up:

Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal [February 2nd, 2024 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp]: Nearly four years after their fourth album, The Ones from Hell, French blackened death metal band Necrowretch has returned with Swords of Dajjal. This album, inspired by the Islamic mythology of Al-Masih ad-Dajjal, marries the band’s death metal roots with a more pronounced black metal influence. The result is a vicious, bestial sound, highlighted by the gravelly, sepulchral vocals and the rage and enchantment carried on the guitars and in the rhythm section. Swords of Dajjal retains a concise 37-minute runtime, avoiding the trap of over-indulgence while exploring epic themes and this is one of its best choices. Each listen requires a re-listen, each time it ends you are left wanting more. As Carcharodon gushed, “One of the first things to really hit me in 2024, Necrowretch made a real step up from The Ones from Hell. More maturely and consistently written than that last record, Swords of Dajjal has a flow and intensity to it, which gives it an epic feeling of grandeur that belies its tight runtime.”

Counting Hours // The Wishing Tomb [February 23rd, 2024 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp]: Counting Hours, born from the legacy of Finnish melodic doom band Rapture, has returned with its follow-up album, The Wishing Tomb. This record weaves a tapestry of sadness, despair, and melancholy; masterfully blending influences from the early days of Katatonia, Dawn of Solace, and the core essence of Rapture itself. Counting Hours is like the Platonic Ideal of sadboi Finnish doom metal. It’s heavy, yet infused with mournful guitar work and poignant vocals that capture the essence of darkness and sadness and which complement melancholic leads, harmonious riffs, and the occasional crushing doom onslaught. The Wishing Tomb is both beautiful and heartrending and finds Counting Hours showcasing their profound understanding of the genre conventions, yet delivering the fresh takes on familiar themes as so few bands really ever do well. As scene veteran and undeniably Sadboi Druhm opined after his most recent crying jag, “Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel.” It’s not often that the Druhm himself breaks the counter like some kind of overrating overrater. Heed him.

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySRecordSOTheMonth #ArduaMusic #Borknagar #CenturyMediaRecords #CountingHours #Fall #Feb24 #Necrowretch #RecordSOTheMonth #SeasonOfMist #SwordsOfDajjal #TheWishingTomb

Record(s) o’ the Month – February 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

The common wisdom about February in Sweden is that it’s the dreariest month; it’s long, it’s gray, it’s cold and it’s only standing between you and spring. At least in November you can look forward to Christmas, but February is just a long, bitter slog. I carried this attitude over to metal releases from the early winter months, as well. However, as I showed last month, January’s reputation for being slow appears to be incorrect. The same is true of February, apparently, if my lists are anything to go by.

In contrast to January, February seems to either hit or miss, with less in the middle range. February proffered, for example, few Honorable Mentions (just Frozen Dawn in 2023 and Ad Nauseam in 2021) and fewer #(ish)es (only Beyond the Red Mirror in 20151), while the only other February release that I ranked under #4 on my Top 10(ish) was Steven Wilson’s The Raven That Refused to Sing which came in at #9 in 2013. The top 4, on the other hand, has been flush with great February releases. Behemoth’s best album (yeah, I said it), The Satanist, was released in February of 2014 (and ranked at #4) and we first met Kvaen in February of 2020 and they, too, ranked at #4 at my RotY list in 2020. The highest ranked February record is the reigning Record o’ the Year from 2023, Carnosus’ brilliant Visions of Infinihility. But what struck me was that fully 30% of the #2s on my end of year list between 2013 and 2023 were February releases: Fleshgod Apocalypse’s uaaaautastic King (2016)2; Black Sites’ excellent debut record In Monochrome (2017); and Soen’s brilliant Lotus (2019).3

February 2024 was pretty fucking tedious and trying for me, at least personally. With another stint on the IL from an innocent little cold that turned out to pack a wallop and that knocked me down for nearly 3 weeks,4 there was plenty of time to passively assess the collective output of the metal scene via AngryMetalGuy.com. So, will any of these make it back around in December? Or is being miserable an insurmountable bias in my listening process? I guess only time will tell.

Borknagar, celebrating three decades of influence in black metal and beyond, continued to captivate fans with their latest album, Fall [February 23rd, 2024 | Century Media Records (Bandcamp)]. These Norwegians’ unyielding dedication has ensured a surprising consistency in quality throughout this time, with each lineup change resulting in a new record that belongs in the band’s pantheon of ‘bests.’ Fall revisits the band’s roots while maintaining their signature expansiveness and melody, and masterfully blend black metal ferocity with serene, atmospheric passages (like on “Summits” or “Moon”). And, as is often the case, it’s the contrasts between brooding melodies and aggressive riffs that makes Fall stand out from the crowd, both heavy and rich. And it’s just that, Fall’s diversity—from the heavy to the harmonious—that exemplifies the band’s well-balanced journey through time and genre. Borknagar continues to successfully blend the harsher elements of their past with the matured sound of recent years to great success. As our own Dr. A.N. Grier exclaimed, “After repeated listens, I still find something new in each of Fall’s songs. When compared to 2019’s True North, this release has more elements, greater progression, and better continuity.” It’s just a darn good record from a legendary band.

Runner(s) Up:

Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal [February 2nd, 2024 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp]: Nearly four years after their fourth album, The Ones from Hell, French blackened death metal band Necrowretch has returned with Swords of Dajjal. This album, inspired by the Islamic mythology of Al-Masih ad-Dajjal, marries the band’s death metal roots with a more pronounced black metal influence. The result is a vicious, bestial sound, highlighted by the gravelly, sepulchral vocals and the rage and enchantment carried on the guitars and in the rhythm section. Swords of Dajjal retains a concise 37-minute runtime, avoiding the trap of over-indulgence while exploring epic themes and this is one of its best choices. Each listen requires a re-listen, each time it ends you are left wanting more. As Carcharodon gushed, “One of the first things to really hit me in 2024, Necrowretch made a real step up from The Ones from Hell. More maturely and consistently written than that last record, Swords of Dajjal has a flow and intensity to it, which gives it an epic feeling of grandeur that belies its tight runtime.”

Counting Hours // The Wishing Tomb [February 23rd, 2024 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp]: Counting Hours, born from the legacy of Finnish melodic doom band Rapture, has returned with its follow-up album, The Wishing Tomb. This record weaves a tapestry of sadness, despair, and melancholy; masterfully blending influences from the early days of Katatonia, Dawn of Solace, and the core essence of Rapture itself. Counting Hours is like the Platonic Ideal of sadboi Finnish doom metal. It’s heavy, yet infused with mournful guitar work and poignant vocals that capture the essence of darkness and sadness and which complement melancholic leads, harmonious riffs, and the occasional crushing doom onslaught. The Wishing Tomb is both beautiful and heartrending and finds Counting Hours showcasing their profound understanding of the genre conventions, yet delivering the fresh takes on familiar themes as so few bands really ever do well. As scene veteran and undeniably Sadboi Druhm opined after his most recent crying jag, “Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel.” It’s not often that the Druhm himself breaks the counter like some kind of overrating overrater. Heed him.

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySRecordSOTheMonth #ArduaMusic #Borknagar #CenturyMediaRecords #CountingHours #Fall #Feb24 #Necrowretch #RecordSOTheMonth #SeasonOfMist #SwordsOfDajjal #TheWishingTomb

Record(s) o’ the Month – February 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

The common wisdom about February in Sweden is that it’s the dreariest month; it’s long, it’s gray, it’s cold and it’s only standing between you and spring. At least in November you can look forward to Christmas, but February is just a long, bitter slog. I carried this attitude over to metal releases from the early winter months, as well. However, as I showed last month, January’s reputation for being slow appears to be incorrect. The same is true of February, apparently, if my lists are anything to go by.

In contrast to January, February seems to either hit or miss, with less in the middle range. February proffered, for example, few Honorable Mentions (just Frozen Dawn in 2023 and Ad Nauseam in 2021) and fewer #(ish)es (only Beyond the Red Mirror in 20151), while the only other February release that I ranked under #4 on my Top 10(ish) was Steven Wilson’s The Raven That Refused to Sing which came in at #9 in 2013. The top 4, on the other hand, has been flush with great February releases. Behemoth’s best album (yeah, I said it), The Satanist, was released in February of 2014 (and ranked at #4) and we first met Kvaen in February of 2020 and they, too, ranked at #4 at my RotY list in 2020. The highest ranked February record is the reigning Record o’ the Year from 2023, Carnosus’ brilliant Visions of Infinihility. But what struck me was that fully 30% of the #2s on my end of year list between 2013 and 2023 were February releases: Fleshgod Apocalypse’s uaaaautastic King (2016)2; Black Sites’ excellent debut record In Monochrome (2017); and Soen’s brilliant Lotus (2019).3

February 2024 was pretty fucking tedious and trying for me, at least personally. With another stint on the IL from an innocent little cold that turned out to pack a wallop and that knocked me down for nearly 3 weeks,4 there was plenty of time to passively assess the collective output of the metal scene via AngryMetalGuy.com. So, will any of these make it back around in December? Or is being miserable an insurmountable bias in my listening process? I guess only time will tell.

Borknagar, celebrating three decades of influence in black metal and beyond, continued to captivate fans with their latest album, Fall [February 23rd, 2024 | Century Media Records (Bandcamp)]. These Norwegians’ unyielding dedication has ensured a surprising consistency in quality throughout this time, with each lineup change resulting in a new record that belongs in the band’s pantheon of ‘bests.’ Fall revisits the band’s roots while maintaining their signature expansiveness and melody, and masterfully blend black metal ferocity with serene, atmospheric passages (like on “Summits” or “Moon”). And, as is often the case, it’s the contrasts between brooding melodies and aggressive riffs that makes Fall stand out from the crowd, both heavy and rich. And it’s just that, Fall’s diversity—from the heavy to the harmonious—that exemplifies the band’s well-balanced journey through time and genre. Borknagar continues to successfully blend the harsher elements of their past with the matured sound of recent years to great success. As our own Dr. A.N. Grier exclaimed, “After repeated listens, I still find something new in each of Fall’s songs. When compared to 2019’s True North, this release has more elements, greater progression, and better continuity.” It’s just a darn good record from a legendary band.

Runner(s) Up:

Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal [February 2nd, 2024 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp]: Nearly four years after their fourth album, The Ones from Hell, French blackened death metal band Necrowretch has returned with Swords of Dajjal. This album, inspired by the Islamic mythology of Al-Masih ad-Dajjal, marries the band’s death metal roots with a more pronounced black metal influence. The result is a vicious, bestial sound, highlighted by the gravelly, sepulchral vocals and the rage and enchantment carried on the guitars and in the rhythm section. Swords of Dajjal retains a concise 37-minute runtime, avoiding the trap of over-indulgence while exploring epic themes and this is one of its best choices. Each listen requires a re-listen, each time it ends you are left wanting more. As Carcharodon gushed, “One of the first things to really hit me in 2024, Necrowretch made a real step up from The Ones from Hell. More maturely and consistently written than that last record, Swords of Dajjal has a flow and intensity to it, which gives it an epic feeling of grandeur that belies its tight runtime.”

Counting Hours // The Wishing Tomb [February 23rd, 2024 | Ardua Music | Bandcamp]: Counting Hours, born from the legacy of Finnish melodic doom band Rapture, has returned with its follow-up album, The Wishing Tomb. This record weaves a tapestry of sadness, despair, and melancholy; masterfully blending influences from the early days of Katatonia, Dawn of Solace, and the core essence of Rapture itself. Counting Hours is like the Platonic Ideal of sadboi Finnish doom metal. It’s heavy, yet infused with mournful guitar work and poignant vocals that capture the essence of darkness and sadness and which complement melancholic leads, harmonious riffs, and the occasional crushing doom onslaught. The Wishing Tomb is both beautiful and heartrending and finds Counting Hours showcasing their profound understanding of the genre conventions, yet delivering the fresh takes on familiar themes as so few bands really ever do well. As scene veteran and undeniably Sadboi Druhm opined after his most recent crying jag, “Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel.” It’s not often that the Druhm himself breaks the counter like some kind of overrating overrater. Heed him.

#2024 #AngryMetalGuySRecordSOTheMonth #ArduaMusic #Borknagar #CenturyMediaRecords #CountingHours #Fall #Feb24 #Necrowretch #RecordSOTheMonth #SeasonOfMist #SwordsOfDajjal #TheWishingTomb

Hecatoncheir – Nightmare Utopia Review

By Dear Hollow

On the advent of the release of Nightmare Utopia, Hecatoncheir posted a series of poetry and stories attached to each of the forthcoming songs on social media. The journey begins by following a dark silhouette, each installment describes surreal and dreamlike landscapes, strange characters, and objects—with monolithic importance attached in the strange way that dreams do. In the latter tracks, ever-vigilant eyes watch from the stars and assume a more horrific face as they emerge from the darkness as the cruel pelagic and empyrean deities and monsters among Lovecraft’s multitudes. Hecatoncheir’s uniquely dreamlike take on chthonic horror, balanced by its ambitions in liminal spaces, set one hell of a precedent for the music contained herein.

Slovakian trio Hecatoncheir, named after a trio of hundred-armed, fifty-headed allies of the Olympians in Hesiod’s Theogony, blurs the borderlands between its influences—making this quite the feat for an act with limited experience in the scene.1 Throughout Nightmare Utopia’s thirty-two-minute runtime, you will hear the familiar wail of dissonant stylings, the cold saturation of black metal, the brutality of death metal, the megaton weight of sludge, and the patience of doom—influences of Our Place of Worship is Silence, Portal, Thantifaxath, and Mass Worship all have a hand in laying waste to this hellish landscape. Hecatoncheir weaponizes riffs and atmosphere that not only conjure a journey through the uncanny valley but wield enough firepower to overthrow the Titans with the fists of chthonic gods in the act’s debut.

Humbly self-described as a “mid-tempo juggernaut,” the dichotomy of punishing density and menacing atmosphere is what makes Hecatoncheir stand out. Each track assumes an identity of its own, with a common thread of crystalline dissonance coursing through its jagged movements. Fiery tremolo gives way to thick riffs seamlessly, while monolithic doom sludge gives way to skull-crushing riffs, overlaid by simple yet effective plucking and dissonant leads. You would be forgiven in thinking that opener “Dreamless” introduces the next Thantifaxath album with its blastbeat and tremolo-guided trek, because after the brief ambient track “Nightmare Utopia (I. The Falsebound Kingdom),” the formidable and monolithic “Nightmare Utopia (II. Him in the Gulf)” hits with a Mass Worship-like sludgy intensity, portraying Lovecraft’s idiot god Azathoth with a deserving hugeness. “Sefirot of Understanding” capitalizes upon the Our Place of Worship is Silence influence in its thick and sticky chugs, balanced by dissonant passages and a blackened edge.

While the common thread courses through the sludge, black, and death metal passages throughout the first half of Nightmare Utopia as it maintains remarkable balance, it reaches its apex with its three closers, “The Crowning Horror,” “Madness of the Stars,” and “The Watcher, the Witness,” dragging the previous relatively safe compositions to an unforeseen depth. “The Crowning Horror” offers a central Portal-esque crawling riff atop vicious blastbeats with a nearly thrashy blaze tossed in, combined with an unforgettable melodic interlay that adds a needed jolt in context to the mid-tempo pummeling of “Sefirot of Understanding.” “Madness of the Stars” then proceeds to walk the path of Hierophant and Nightmarer with the thickest and most pummeling riffs of the album and a thickly distorted blackened closing, before “The Watcher, the Witness” revisits the uncompromising sludge of “Him in the Gulf” with a minimalist spin, focusing on its plucking and sprawling sludge, nearly-drone chords atop contemplative blastbeats.

“I am everything. The light and the darkness, the left hand and the right hand, the sun and the flesh, the beginning and the end. The creator and the destroyer.” I am reminded of these final words in Hecatoncheir’s poetic commentary on closer “The Watcher, the Witness.” Nightmare Utopia certainly dwells in far darker places than much of the metalverse, but it’s much more than that. The themes of forbidden knowledge, horror, and violence are balanced by the trio’s emphasis on liminality, emptiness, and patience. While listeners may see influence disparity as a lack of commitment, the sudden out-of-the-blue closing passages of the three closers jarring, or the unwavering growls monotone, Hecatoncheir’s ambition and the seamless blend of black, death, sludge, and doom balances atmosphere and punishment as deftly as a debut can get. As you find yourself in the fog, follow the faint silhouette of the man, slightly darker than his surroundings—he’ll guide you home.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Total Dissonance Worship
Websites: facebook.com/hecatoncheir.sk | hecatoncheir-sk.bandcamp.com
Releases worldwide: February 29th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AleaIactaEst #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedSludgeMetal #DeathMetal #DissonantBlackMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #Hecatoncheir #Hierophant #MassWorship #NightmareUtopia #Nightmarer #OldTomb #OurPlaceOfWorshipIsSilence #Portal #Review #Reviews #SlovakMetal #SludgeMetal #Thantifaxath #TotalDissonanceWorship

Hecatoncheir – Nightmare Utopia Review

By Dear Hollow

On the advent of the release of Nightmare Utopia, Hecatoncheir posted a series of poetry and stories attached to each of the forthcoming songs on social media. The journey begins by following a dark silhouette, each installment describes surreal and dreamlike landscapes, strange characters, and objects—with monolithic importance attached in the strange way that dreams do. In the latter tracks, ever-vigilant eyes watch from the stars and assume a more horrific face as they emerge from the darkness as the cruel pelagic and empyrean deities and monsters among Lovecraft’s multitudes. Hecatoncheir’s uniquely dreamlike take on chthonic horror, balanced by its ambitions in liminal spaces, set one hell of a precedent for the music contained herein.

Slovakian trio Hecatoncheir, named after a trio of hundred-armed, fifty-headed allies of the Olympians in Hesiod’s Theogony, blurs the borderlands between its influences—making this quite the feat for an act with limited experience in the scene.1 Throughout Nightmare Utopia’s thirty-two-minute runtime, you will hear the familiar wail of dissonant stylings, the cold saturation of black metal, the brutality of death metal, the megaton weight of sludge, and the patience of doom—influences of Our Place of Worship is Silence, Portal, Thantifaxath, and Mass Worship all have a hand in laying waste to this hellish landscape. Hecatoncheir weaponizes riffs and atmosphere that not only conjure a journey through the uncanny valley but wield enough firepower to overthrow the Titans with the fists of chthonic gods in the act’s debut.

Humbly self-described as a “mid-tempo juggernaut,” the dichotomy of punishing density and menacing atmosphere is what makes Hecatoncheir stand out. Each track assumes an identity of its own, with a common thread of crystalline dissonance coursing through its jagged movements. Fiery tremolo gives way to thick riffs seamlessly, while monolithic doom sludge gives way to skull-crushing riffs, overlaid by simple yet effective plucking and dissonant leads. You would be forgiven in thinking that opener “Dreamless” introduces the next Thantifaxath album with its blastbeat and tremolo-guided trek, because after the brief ambient track “Nightmare Utopia (I. The Falsebound Kingdom),” the formidable and monolithic “Nightmare Utopia (II. Him in the Gulf)” hits with a Mass Worship-like sludgy intensity, portraying Lovecraft’s idiot god Azathoth with a deserving hugeness. “Sefirot of Understanding” capitalizes upon the Our Place of Worship is Silence influence in its thick and sticky chugs, balanced by dissonant passages and a blackened edge.

While the common thread courses through the sludge, black, and death metal passages throughout the first half of Nightmare Utopia as it maintains remarkable balance, it reaches its apex with its three closers, “The Crowning Horror,” “Madness of the Stars,” and “The Watcher, the Witness,” dragging the previous relatively safe compositions to an unforeseen depth. “The Crowning Horror” offers a central Portal-esque crawling riff atop vicious blastbeats with a nearly thrashy blaze tossed in, combined with an unforgettable melodic interlay that adds a needed jolt in context to the mid-tempo pummeling of “Sefirot of Understanding.” “Madness of the Stars” then proceeds to walk the path of Hierophant and Nightmarer with the thickest and most pummeling riffs of the album and a thickly distorted blackened closing, before “The Watcher, the Witness” revisits the uncompromising sludge of “Him in the Gulf” with a minimalist spin, focusing on its plucking and sprawling sludge, nearly-drone chords atop contemplative blastbeats.

“I am everything. The light and the darkness, the left hand and the right hand, the sun and the flesh, the beginning and the end. The creator and the destroyer.” I am reminded of these final words in Hecatoncheir’s poetic commentary on closer “The Watcher, the Witness.” Nightmare Utopia certainly dwells in far darker places than much of the metalverse, but it’s much more than that. The themes of forbidden knowledge, horror, and violence are balanced by the trio’s emphasis on liminality, emptiness, and patience. While listeners may see influence disparity as a lack of commitment, the sudden out-of-the-blue closing passages of the three closers jarring, or the unwavering growls monotone, Hecatoncheir’s ambition and the seamless blend of black, death, sludge, and doom balances atmosphere and punishment as deftly as a debut can get. As you find yourself in the fog, follow the faint silhouette of the man, slightly darker than his surroundings—he’ll guide you home.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Total Dissonance Worship
Websites: facebook.com/hecatoncheir.sk | hecatoncheir-sk.bandcamp.com
Releases worldwide: February 29th, 2024

#2024 #40 #AleaIactaEst #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedSludgeMetal #DeathMetal #DissonantBlackMetal #DissonantDeathMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #Hecatoncheir #Hierophant #MassWorship #NightmareUtopia #Nightmarer #OldTomb #OurPlaceOfWorshipIsSilence #Portal #Review #Reviews #SlovakMetal #SludgeMetal #Thantifaxath #TotalDissonanceWorship

Skuggor – Whispers of Ancient Spells Review

By Dear Hollow

Skuggor is exactly what you expect it will sound like. Gothic font and grainy nature photo with themes of darkness, mist, and myth? You betcher ass it’s atmospheric black metal. “But I’m sure there’s something unique here, Hollow,” I can hear you say. Have you heard atmospheric black metal? You don’t listen to this shit for the neatest thing since Deftones. You listen cuz you want to be sucked into arcane and forlorn woods of ancient magic and nature untouched by human hands. I mean, duh. It walks the way of Judas Iscariot’s greatest hits and nods to the raw heroes of Evilfeast and Paysage d’Hiver, and hell, that’s not always a bad thing.

Skuggor’s greatest asset is its patience. Its sole member Matthew Bell offers this trait throughout his storied catalog of acts like Forlorn Citadel, Autumn’s Dawn, Mjältsjuka, and myriad others. Each offers nature-themed black metal unafraid of its more abrasive tendencies but relying on the soothing ambiance and contemplative tempos to do the talking. In this way, Whispers of Ancient Spells is an overwhelmingly safe album, smartly composed with a solid foundation of grim progressions, percussive plods, and shrieks upon which Skuggor builds its melodies. Across a reasonable thirty-two minutes and five tracks, expect this patient songwriting and pleasant melodies to take center stage in an album that does nothing to hurt or help atmoblack’s toothless reputation.

Skuggor’s patient songcraft makes songs perhaps feel longer than they are, which can be a good thing in this case. Firmly rooted in the depressive school of thought in sprawling strums with subtle tremolo flares and a plodding dirge-like pace, each track is built around a raw and grim chord progression, with some percussive and tremolo picking flare and a synth that never feels too much. Likewise, songs like the opening title track and “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace” feel like a cleaner Evilfeast at a ColdWorld pace, with a solid undercurrent of double bass providing a palpable energy—necessary for this more contemplative breed of black metal. Starting with a glacial and unbearable pace, “As Fog Reveals the Path of Despair” and closer “A Forgotten Past” slowly grow across their respective runtime to include punkier beats then concluding with the only two appearances of blastbeats, all the while solidly anchored by chords and keys. “Shadows Echoing Through Time” is also a notable inclusion, due to its epic scope in the fusion of atmosphere and grimness.

The glaring issue with Whispers of Ancient Spells is that it refuses to take any risks. This makes Skuggor’s sound pleasant in its grimness but little else, as each track follows the same reliable but well-trodden path: loud drums and grim strums, shrieks, frosty keys, quiet passages with an overlay of plucking, repeat—in that order. The rapidity of the chord progressions and drum patterns are the only tether that keeps the album running at a pace other than contemplative, such as the quick interchanges of “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace.” While this centerpiece is the most energetic cut of the album, it also simply drags on for too long due to its nine-and-a-half minute runtime, the passages growing weary by its dead-horse-beating end. Because of Skuggor’s more thoughtful compositions in adherence to the atmoblack a la second wave, no song particularly stands out: Whispers of Ancient Spells is a brief and pleasant hum that takes a multitude of listens to discern its undercurrents and movements beneath.

To his credit, Bell makes some solid atmoblack in the Skuggor project. This is cearly the work of a veteran, Whispers of Ancient Spells embodies the older interpretation of the style that feels distinctly cold and grim—spitting at the textured and warm palettes seen in more contemporary offerings of the same ilk. That being said, with how smartly and neatly it is composed, it loses a certain gusto by a certain point because of its stubbornness in not taking risks. Each track balances atmosphere and grimness with energy, but none of the above truly stand out or will impact your opinion of the style. If cold and traditional atmoblack a la Evilfeast, Paysage d’Hiver, Judas Iscariot, or Midnight Odyssey are your jam, then check out Skuggor. If not, you’re not missing much.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: ~190 kb/s mp3
Label: Naturmacht Productions
Websites: skuggor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AutumnSDawn #BlackMetal #Coldworld #DSBM #Evilfeast #Feb24 #ForlornCitadel #JudasIscariot #MidnightOdyssey #Mjältsjuka #NaturmachtProductions #PaysageDHiver #Review #Reviews #Skuggor #SwedishMetal #WhispersOfAncientSpells

Skuggor – Whispers of Ancient Spells Review

By Dear Hollow

Skuggor is exactly what you expect it will sound like. Gothic font and grainy nature photo with themes of darkness, mist, and myth? You betcher ass it’s atmospheric black metal. “But I’m sure there’s something unique here, Hollow,” I can hear you say. Have you heard atmospheric black metal? You don’t listen to this shit for the neatest thing since Deftones. You listen cuz you want to be sucked into arcane and forlorn woods of ancient magic and nature untouched by human hands. I mean, duh. It walks the way of Judas Iscariot’s greatest hits and nods to the raw heroes of Evilfeast and Paysage d’Hiver, and hell, that’s not always a bad thing.

Skuggor’s greatest asset is its patience. Its sole member Matthew Bell offers this trait throughout his storied catalog of acts like Forlorn Citadel, Autumn’s Dawn, Mjältsjuka, and myriad others. Each offers nature-themed black metal unafraid of its more abrasive tendencies but relying on the soothing ambiance and contemplative tempos to do the talking. In this way, Whispers of Ancient Spells is an overwhelmingly safe album, smartly composed with a solid foundation of grim progressions, percussive plods, and shrieks upon which Skuggor builds its melodies. Across a reasonable thirty-two minutes and five tracks, expect this patient songwriting and pleasant melodies to take center stage in an album that does nothing to hurt or help atmoblack’s toothless reputation.

Skuggor’s patient songcraft makes songs perhaps feel longer than they are, which can be a good thing in this case. Firmly rooted in the depressive school of thought in sprawling strums with subtle tremolo flares and a plodding dirge-like pace, each track is built around a raw and grim chord progression, with some percussive and tremolo picking flare and a synth that never feels too much. Likewise, songs like the opening title track and “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace” feel like a cleaner Evilfeast at a ColdWorld pace, with a solid undercurrent of double bass providing a palpable energy—necessary for this more contemplative breed of black metal. Starting with a glacial and unbearable pace, “As Fog Reveals the Path of Despair” and closer “A Forgotten Past” slowly grow across their respective runtime to include punkier beats then concluding with the only two appearances of blastbeats, all the while solidly anchored by chords and keys. “Shadows Echoing Through Time” is also a notable inclusion, due to its epic scope in the fusion of atmosphere and grimness.

The glaring issue with Whispers of Ancient Spells is that it refuses to take any risks. This makes Skuggor’s sound pleasant in its grimness but little else, as each track follows the same reliable but well-trodden path: loud drums and grim strums, shrieks, frosty keys, quiet passages with an overlay of plucking, repeat—in that order. The rapidity of the chord progressions and drum patterns are the only tether that keeps the album running at a pace other than contemplative, such as the quick interchanges of “Silent Cry of the Forests Embrace.” While this centerpiece is the most energetic cut of the album, it also simply drags on for too long due to its nine-and-a-half minute runtime, the passages growing weary by its dead-horse-beating end. Because of Skuggor’s more thoughtful compositions in adherence to the atmoblack a la second wave, no song particularly stands out: Whispers of Ancient Spells is a brief and pleasant hum that takes a multitude of listens to discern its undercurrents and movements beneath.

To his credit, Bell makes some solid atmoblack in the Skuggor project. This is cearly the work of a veteran, Whispers of Ancient Spells embodies the older interpretation of the style that feels distinctly cold and grim—spitting at the textured and warm palettes seen in more contemporary offerings of the same ilk. That being said, with how smartly and neatly it is composed, it loses a certain gusto by a certain point because of its stubbornness in not taking risks. Each track balances atmosphere and grimness with energy, but none of the above truly stand out or will impact your opinion of the style. If cold and traditional atmoblack a la Evilfeast, Paysage d’Hiver, Judas Iscariot, or Midnight Odyssey are your jam, then check out Skuggor. If not, you’re not missing much.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 10 | Format Reviewed: ~190 kb/s mp3
Label: Naturmacht Productions
Websites: skuggor.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AutumnSDawn #BlackMetal #Coldworld #DSBM #Evilfeast #Feb24 #ForlornCitadel #JudasIscariot #MidnightOdyssey #Mjältsjuka #NaturmachtProductions #PaysageDHiver #Review #Reviews #Skuggor #SwedishMetal #WhispersOfAncientSpells

Hand of Kalliach – Corryvreckan Review

By Eldritch Elitist

I loathe the unspoken limitations of genre qualifiers. I am telling you right now that I’m presenting you with a specimen of melodic death/folk metal. As you read that phrase, your brain probably immediately jumped to Ensiferum. I can’t say I blame you, as Ensiferum was one of the first and arguably the best at hybridizing melodeath and folk music. But that same presumption might lead your expectations towards Hand of Kalliach astray. A Scottish husband and wife duo, Hand of Kalliach is self-described as melodic death metal that is interwoven with Celtic and Gaelic folk music and has been making wholly distinct music defying implied genre confines since 2020. Their yet-brief existence has already spawned an independent EP and LP, and now a sophomore full-length under the Prosthetic Records banner. Swift underground successes and unique sonic signifiers are all well and good, but when it comes to Corryvreckan, does innovation translate to a worthwhile listen?

To some of those expecting more traditional melodeath thrills, the answer may well be “no.” Yet as someone who traditionally prefers melodeath when it sticks to the hits, my answer is nonetheless a resounding “fuck yes.” Hand of Kalliach plays what I can best describe as atmospheric melodic death metal—hammer-on licks dance with crunchy, utilitarian death metal riffs amidst backdrops of ethereal vocals, to borderline hypnotic effect. If I allow myself a crumb of reductiveness, this approach sounds like a hybrid of Amon Amarth’s instrumentation and Sojourner’s spellbinding, Summoning-adjacent aesthetic. Hand of Kalliach nailed this approach with 2021’s Samhainn, and Corryvreckan enshrines the formula as well as any sophomore record ever has. Its writing feels tighter, song-to-song quality is more consistent, and in general, it gives me exactly what I wanted coming off of the preceding Samhainn: more.

While Corryvreckan provides exactly what I hoped, I can’t deny its potential for further refinement. This record may excel through consistency, but in retrospect, Samhainn had brighter highlights. That record’s best songs (“Beneath Starlit Waters” and “Each Uisge”) remain Hand of Kalliach’s most ambitious; Corryvreckan’s “Three Seas” and “Of Twilight and the Pyre” aim for similarly lofty heights, but take a bit too long getting to the point. Corryvreckan’s strengths, then, lie in its short-form material. “Deathless” and “The Cauldron” are masterfully condensed attacks at three minutes apiece, with the former’s knuckle-dragging, fighting game-ready riffs making it my favorite cut of the record. If those superficial thrills were spliced with Samhainn’s towering epics, Corryvreckan could have been the superior record. As-is, I find the two records on equal footing, with differing areas of specialization.

Much of what makes Hand of Kalliach so compelling lies in the contrasting vocal talents of Sophie and John Fraser. The former’s airy, Celtic folk-derived melodies imbue the proceedings with a downright mystical quality, while the latter’s full-throated death metal roars add a significant edge to the already substantial core execution. Together, they make one of the best “beauty and beast” vocal duos I’ve heard. While the vocals are typically lauded as one of Hand of Kalliach’s primary strengths, their engineering jobs are more divisive. Though sorely lacking in dynamism, I kinda love the way this record sounds. Its melodies feel grounded in landscapes and myth, and yet the drums and guitars feel unapologetically synthetic, with the latter’s blunt, sawing tones giving the record a nearly industrial metal vibe. This dichotomy of nature and electricity adds yet another intriguing wrinkle to an already fascinating soundscape.

Bands like Hand of Kalliach are vital to the metal ecosystem, those acts that take a somewhat avant-garde approach in style and songcraft while simultaneously delivering traditional immediacy and pure aggression. I have minor nitpicks with their songwriting – primarily, I wish they’d learn how to end songs in ways that don’t involve an abrupt cutoff – but I remain content, yet ever-curious about how the Frasers’ singular project will evolve going forward. Since I first heard Samhainn, I’ve believed that Hand of Kalliach has a masterpiece tucked away within their craft that will inevitably be unlocked by time and resilience. Corryvreckan may not be revelatory, but it is still a vital step in Hand of Kalliach’s creative journey and solidifies them as one of the most exciting metal bands working today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records | Bandcamp
Websites: handofkalliach.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/handofkalliach | twitter.com/HKalliach
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Corryvreckan #Ensiferum #Feb24 #FolkMetal #HandOfKalliach #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sojourner #Summoning

Hand of Kalliach – Corryvreckan Review

By Eldritch Elitist

I loathe the unspoken limitations of genre qualifiers. I am telling you right now that I’m presenting you with a specimen of melodic death/folk metal. As you read that phrase, your brain probably immediately jumped to Ensiferum. I can’t say I blame you, as Ensiferum was one of the first and arguably the best at hybridizing melodeath and folk music. But that same presumption might lead your expectations towards Hand of Kalliach astray. A Scottish husband and wife duo, Hand of Kalliach is self-described as melodic death metal that is interwoven with Celtic and Gaelic folk music and has been making wholly distinct music defying implied genre confines since 2020. Their yet-brief existence has already spawned an independent EP and LP, and now a sophomore full-length under the Prosthetic Records banner. Swift underground successes and unique sonic signifiers are all well and good, but when it comes to Corryvreckan, does innovation translate to a worthwhile listen?

To some of those expecting more traditional melodeath thrills, the answer may well be “no.” Yet as someone who traditionally prefers melodeath when it sticks to the hits, my answer is nonetheless a resounding “fuck yes.” Hand of Kalliach plays what I can best describe as atmospheric melodic death metal—hammer-on licks dance with crunchy, utilitarian death metal riffs amidst backdrops of ethereal vocals, to borderline hypnotic effect. If I allow myself a crumb of reductiveness, this approach sounds like a hybrid of Amon Amarth’s instrumentation and Sojourner’s spellbinding, Summoning-adjacent aesthetic. Hand of Kalliach nailed this approach with 2021’s Samhainn, and Corryvreckan enshrines the formula as well as any sophomore record ever has. Its writing feels tighter, song-to-song quality is more consistent, and in general, it gives me exactly what I wanted coming off of the preceding Samhainn: more.

While Corryvreckan provides exactly what I hoped, I can’t deny its potential for further refinement. This record may excel through consistency, but in retrospect, Samhainn had brighter highlights. That record’s best songs (“Beneath Starlit Waters” and “Each Uisge”) remain Hand of Kalliach’s most ambitious; Corryvreckan’s “Three Seas” and “Of Twilight and the Pyre” aim for similarly lofty heights, but take a bit too long getting to the point. Corryvreckan’s strengths, then, lie in its short-form material. “Deathless” and “The Cauldron” are masterfully condensed attacks at three minutes apiece, with the former’s knuckle-dragging, fighting game-ready riffs making it my favorite cut of the record. If those superficial thrills were spliced with Samhainn’s towering epics, Corryvreckan could have been the superior record. As-is, I find the two records on equal footing, with differing areas of specialization.

Much of what makes Hand of Kalliach so compelling lies in the contrasting vocal talents of Sophie and John Fraser. The former’s airy, Celtic folk-derived melodies imbue the proceedings with a downright mystical quality, while the latter’s full-throated death metal roars add a significant edge to the already substantial core execution. Together, they make one of the best “beauty and beast” vocal duos I’ve heard. While the vocals are typically lauded as one of Hand of Kalliach’s primary strengths, their engineering jobs are more divisive. Though sorely lacking in dynamism, I kinda love the way this record sounds. Its melodies feel grounded in landscapes and myth, and yet the drums and guitars feel unapologetically synthetic, with the latter’s blunt, sawing tones giving the record a nearly industrial metal vibe. This dichotomy of nature and electricity adds yet another intriguing wrinkle to an already fascinating soundscape.

Bands like Hand of Kalliach are vital to the metal ecosystem, those acts that take a somewhat avant-garde approach in style and songcraft while simultaneously delivering traditional immediacy and pure aggression. I have minor nitpicks with their songwriting – primarily, I wish they’d learn how to end songs in ways that don’t involve an abrupt cutoff – but I remain content, yet ever-curious about how the Frasers’ singular project will evolve going forward. Since I first heard Samhainn, I’ve believed that Hand of Kalliach has a masterpiece tucked away within their craft that will inevitably be unlocked by time and resilience. Corryvreckan may not be revelatory, but it is still a vital step in Hand of Kalliach’s creative journey and solidifies them as one of the most exciting metal bands working today.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records | Bandcamp
Websites: handofkalliach.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/handofkalliach | twitter.com/HKalliach
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmonAmarth #Corryvreckan #Ensiferum #Feb24 #FolkMetal #HandOfKalliach #MelodicDeathMetal #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Sojourner #Summoning

They Came from Visions – The Twilight Robes Review

By Doom_et_Al

I’ve always found the notion of “folk horror” to be altogether more ominous and scarier than psychopaths stalking teenagers. Rural settings, pagan beliefs, blood sacrifices, normal people committing terrible acts in the name of terrifying superstition … this is all deeply compelling stuff. They Came from Visions, an anonymous Ukrainian black metal outfit, clearly agrees. Sophomore album, The Twilight Robes, is positively steeped in folk horror, positioning each of its songs as a vignette, explaining the arrival of mysterious strangers called – you guessed it! – The Twilight Robes – who visit horror and despair upon an unsuspecting world, causing them to act in violent and depraved ways. This simple, yet compelling, theme is emphasized by the gorgeous, uncluttered album art. The fact that this comes from Ukraine, a country currently at war, only heightens the allegory. So far, so good. But does the music match the lofty aims of the band’s themes?

Mostly! They Came from Visions are, first and foremost, a black metal band, with one foot in the atmospheric camp and another in the melodic. There are rasped, wretched vocals, a raw production, and instrumentation with a distinctly medieval flavor to it. When it comes together, there is an indelible sense of atmosphere and foreboding, reminding me of European contemporaries Vehemence, albeit a lot less polished. The songs are surprisingly melodic, often building around central riffs that may not be earworms, per se, but are definitely on the catchier side. Check the central melodies of “Equinox Ablaze” or “Burning Eyes Blackened Claws.” The downside is that, like too many bands these days, the songs occasionally go on too long, draining them of some of their punch.

What really holds The Twilight Robes together so well is how beautifully the concept and the music are melded. The stories are horrifying – in the aforementioned “Equinox Ablaze,” for example, we hear about a village that burns its own citizens alive to appease the Harvest Gods. Yes, this is very Wicker Man-esque, but the band treat the subject matter with solemnity and seriousness, making it far more like the Christopher Lee version than the Nicolas Cage one. The harshness of the music combines with the subject matter like peanut butter and chocolate, resulting in an album that stays thematically consistent throughout its runtime. It does feel like we are witnessing a world slowly being consumed by superstitious darkness. Considering the meager resources available to the band while recording, this is a fantastic achievement.

About that production, though. It really does the music no favors whatsoever. The drums are far too soft, which is a problem when your music is mid-paced and melodic. Instead of thumping rhythm we get anemic pats, which leaches the music of some of its power. The vocals are too prominent, and with little variety in the rasps, quickly become overpowering and somewhat headache-inducing. A few times, I had to stop the album despite enjoying the songs, because my ears were hurting. Maybe I’m just getting olde, but more likely The Twilight Robes needed some more tinkering in the mixing studio. This is all unfortunate because the production missteps draw the listener out of the experience, rather than immersing them in it.

Despite these issues, the good on The Twilight Robes outweighs the bad. The songs are compelling and thematically cohesive. The tone is pitch-perfect and moody, while capturing that unmistakable folk horror aesthetic. With some tighter editing and some tinkering in the production studio, we could have had something truly special. As it is, this is a flawed, yet highly entertaining addition to the “rural” black metal genre.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eisenwald Records
Websites: theycamefromvisions.bandcamp.com/ | facebook.com/theycamefromvisions/
Released Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #EisenwaldRecords #Feb24 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #TheyCameFromVisions #UkrainianMetal #Vehemence

They Came from Visions – The Twilight Robes Review

By Doom_et_Al

I’ve always found the notion of “folk horror” to be altogether more ominous and scarier than psychopaths stalking teenagers. Rural settings, pagan beliefs, blood sacrifices, normal people committing terrible acts in the name of terrifying superstition … this is all deeply compelling stuff. They Came from Visions, an anonymous Ukrainian black metal outfit, clearly agrees. Sophomore album, The Twilight Robes, is positively steeped in folk horror, positioning each of its songs as a vignette, explaining the arrival of mysterious strangers called – you guessed it! – The Twilight Robes – who visit horror and despair upon an unsuspecting world, causing them to act in violent and depraved ways. This simple, yet compelling, theme is emphasized by the gorgeous, uncluttered album art. The fact that this comes from Ukraine, a country currently at war, only heightens the allegory. So far, so good. But does the music match the lofty aims of the band’s themes?

Mostly! They Came from Visions are, first and foremost, a black metal band, with one foot in the atmospheric camp and another in the melodic. There are rasped, wretched vocals, a raw production, and instrumentation with a distinctly medieval flavor to it. When it comes together, there is an indelible sense of atmosphere and foreboding, reminding me of European contemporaries Vehemence, albeit a lot less polished. The songs are surprisingly melodic, often building around central riffs that may not be earworms, per se, but are definitely on the catchier side. Check the central melodies of “Equinox Ablaze” or “Burning Eyes Blackened Claws.” The downside is that, like too many bands these days, the songs occasionally go on too long, draining them of some of their punch.

What really holds The Twilight Robes together so well is how beautifully the concept and the music are melded. The stories are horrifying – in the aforementioned “Equinox Ablaze,” for example, we hear about a village that burns its own citizens alive to appease the Harvest Gods. Yes, this is very Wicker Man-esque, but the band treat the subject matter with solemnity and seriousness, making it far more like the Christopher Lee version than the Nicolas Cage one. The harshness of the music combines with the subject matter like peanut butter and chocolate, resulting in an album that stays thematically consistent throughout its runtime. It does feel like we are witnessing a world slowly being consumed by superstitious darkness. Considering the meager resources available to the band while recording, this is a fantastic achievement.

About that production, though. It really does the music no favors whatsoever. The drums are far too soft, which is a problem when your music is mid-paced and melodic. Instead of thumping rhythm we get anemic pats, which leaches the music of some of its power. The vocals are too prominent, and with little variety in the rasps, quickly become overpowering and somewhat headache-inducing. A few times, I had to stop the album despite enjoying the songs, because my ears were hurting. Maybe I’m just getting olde, but more likely The Twilight Robes needed some more tinkering in the mixing studio. This is all unfortunate because the production missteps draw the listener out of the experience, rather than immersing them in it.

Despite these issues, the good on The Twilight Robes outweighs the bad. The songs are compelling and thematically cohesive. The tone is pitch-perfect and moody, while capturing that unmistakable folk horror aesthetic. With some tighter editing and some tinkering in the production studio, we could have had something truly special. As it is, this is a flawed, yet highly entertaining addition to the “rural” black metal genre.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Eisenwald Records
Websites: theycamefromvisions.bandcamp.com/ | facebook.com/theycamefromvisions/
Released Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #BlackMetal #EisenwaldRecords #Feb24 #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #TheyCameFromVisions #UkrainianMetal #Vehemence

Útgarðar – Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back Review

By Dear Hollow

Norse mythology pervading black metal is nothing new. Due to the style’s Scandinavian origins, it would not surprise me to see Lucifer and Odin taking swigs of Christian blood together in a burning Waffle House in like Tromsø, for instance. Norse Paganism has always been the wingman for anti-Christianity under Metallum’s profile lyrical themes, so the slaughter of Ymir and the rise of Yggdrasil across the yawning void Ginnungagap, the rivalry of Loki and Thor, and the fierce matchups of Ragnarök have long captured the imaginations of the western world. In this way, Útgarðar offers little new, as you’ll find the nine worlds, the great frost-giant Ymir, the trolls, and the formidable ferocity of the wolves Fenrir, Sköll, and Hati all play a part. A tangible thread of storytelling courses through the thirty-two minutes of debut Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back.

You may recognize Útgarðar’s two members, as American instrumentalist Niðafjöll (Nathan Verschoor) is known for his work with recent Uada, Veiled, and Altars of the Moon, while Swedish vocalist/guitarist Seiðr (Andreas Westholm) features a storied discography with acts like Blackest, Seid, and Serpent Omega. Both members offer a distinctly down-tuned sound, heavier guitar tone, and more “deathened” snarls adding to the rotten sound, but Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back is black metal through and through: Útgarðar offers their caustic and vicious interpretation of unholy trinity of blastbeats, shrieks, and tremolo. Refusing to settle into monotony, the duo manages a ritualistic flare and doomed atmosphere that makes it hard to shake, as the frost of the Scandinavian pines and the solemnity of the setting sun are felt in every movement.

Útgarðar utilizes a powerful and simple approach, balancing memorable melody, caustic blackened attacks, and ritualistic doom – tied together into dynamic songwriting. While intro “The Pyres of Utgard” offer the former two in a vicious track whose only reprieve is the haunting clean vocals buried behind slower passages, “Ymir Awakens” and “Trolls of Muspel Trolls of Frost” are clear centerpieces, brimming with tension between its ambient lulls, vicious tremolo, and doom weight – even the ambient passages feature subtle percussion injecting a fire throughout. This continues into the more subdued closers, “Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back” and “Under Soil,” in which ritualistic atmosphere takes front and center, such as in the pulsing percussion and shamanistic chants of the title track or the rotten ambient sprawl of the album closer. While balance is a clear priority for Útgarðar, each cut features a distinct melodic motif that adds to the memorability of the album, as the cleans of the title track or the guitar/vocal melodies of “Under Soil” elevate an otherwise despondent set of tracks.

There are no directly negative tracks within Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back, and largely Útgarðar’s only sin is its inconsistent mood. The contrast between the fiery second-wave of “The Pyres of Utgard” and the shamanistic despair of “Under Soil” is stark. While the best-of-both-worlds “Ymir Awakens” and “Trolls of Muspel Trolls of Frost” smoothen this transition in what would be an album-long dynamic, they settle neatly into three separate approaches instead. The highlights are so because of their haunting blend of energy and atmosphere, while the closing tracks dispel with much of the energy while the opener foregoes atmosphere. In a way, the album then feels like a Viking Venn diagram, with the centerpieces constituting the near-perfect overlap.

That’s not to say that Útgarðar shoots themselves in the foot, because I haven’t quite experienced the haunting and evocative quality of Asatro-themed black metal that actually feels authentic and organic the way Fire Smoked Upon the Wolf’s Back does. It plays it relatively safe in terms of the second wave, but its infusion of doom filth and ritualistic primacy simply adds up to this: a damn good black metal album. While moods are disparate, you won’t care because every one of them is accomplished with rotten grit and otherworldly darkness undergirded by tense Norseman violence. Furious black metal, ritualistic menace, and mammoth weight have a weapon in this particular Ragnarök, and you’ll be glad to die by Odin’s side for Útgarðar.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: ATMF Records
Website: facebook.com/Útgarðar
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AltarsOfTheMoon #ATMFRecords #BlackMetal #BlackenedDoomMetal #Blackest #Feb24 #FireSmokedUponTheWolfSBack #InternationalMetal #Review #Reviews #Seid #SerpentOmega #Uada #Útgarðar #Veiled

Bokassa – All Out of Dreams Review

By GardensTale

On the surface, the perceived lethargy of stoner metal doesn’t seem like a natural match for the reckless energy of punk. But the two genres have been roommates since college and still bunk together regularly. The soundtracks of Jackass and Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater mixed them up freely, and bands like Clutch and Fu Manchu have plenty of popularity on both sides of the fence. When I saw Rise Against in March of 2011, they brought Coliseum, who fused stoner, hardcore, and punk into one. So I wasn’t particularly surprised at Bokassa’s self-appointed genre of stoner punk. I was more surprised, and apprehensive, at Lars Ulrich of all people giving them the seal of approval. Do they live up to the high praise of Metallica’s third-best drummer?

If nothing else, the genre descriptor is apt, though anyone hoping for a bucket of garage grime will need to look elsewhere. Bokassa drapes light stoner riffs à la Fu Manchu over a simplistic pop-punk framework. Musically it’s closer to latter-day Rise Against or even Sum 41 than Dead Kennedys or The Exploited. There’s not much gritty DIY in the production either, which is reasonably polished and not too loud, though the snare is a tad aggressive in the mix.1 The result exceeds the term accessible; if rock was still played on the radio, Bokassa wouldn’t feel out of place on an average alternative station. The only disqualifying factor might have been the gruff vocals, a smoother version of Orange Goblin with the occasional gang woah-ohs.

If this description sounds disparaging, you’re not entirely wrong. Bokassa goes straight for the lowest common denominator, eschewing anything cerebral for the sake of easy absorption. But that’s what they’re good at: you’ll know over half the choruses by heart after a single spin, even (or especially) those that are aggressively dumb, like “Gung Ho” or “Straight Edgelord.” For better or worse, this is music made for skate stunt compilation videos and backyard parties that’ll have the neighbors complaining. As such, the best tracks are those with high energy and infectious riffs, and the front half is packed with those. “The Ending Starts Today” fumbles the chorus with some ill-advised mumbling but has otherwise no shortage of spirit, and “Garden of Heathen” (featuring Lou Koller of Sick of it All) is catchier than it has any right to be. The band even tackles January 6th with the fun “Let’s Storm the Capitol.”2

Bokassa does like to mix it up with some slower tunes, though, and that doesn’t always work in their favor. “Gung Ho” is easy to remember but its repetitive mid-pace makes it a slog, and the awkward title track lurches confusingly between different mismatched tones. There are energy drains in the vocal department as well: as the vocals work best when they’re raucous and self-assured, the mood drops whenever the rather lethargic cleans pop up, whether in solo droning intonations or unenthusiastic group whooping. Strangely, despite slowing things down and including lethargic clean vocals for the refrain, the full-blown doom closer “Crush (All Heretics)” does manage to charm. A solid Black Sabbath riff pulls that cart, and the hummed chorus adds a layer of mystery. It’s a weird closer for a stoner punk album, but it does help pull it together at the finish line.

9 out of 10 times I’ll commend a band for attempting to include different moods, angles, and energeticnesses across their album. All Out of Dreams takes a swing at this philosophy, but Bokassa has a very particular set of skills, and flounders whenever they try to spread their wings. It’s not a bad album at all; it’s catchy as hell, and at least half the tracklist is ready to be plundered for party playlists. The tight editing and short duration support the fun factor, and you can do much worse for a quick bout of low-brow punk energy with fuzz. There are just a few too many dings to recommend the entire package with my full throat. If Bokassa tries to switch up fast with even faster next time, we might get better results.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Indie Recordings
Websites: bokassaband.bandcamp.com | bokassaband.com | facebook.com/bokassaband
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AllOutOfDreams #BlackSabbath #Bokassa #Clutch #Coliseum #DeadKennedys #Feb24 #FuManchu #IndieRecordings #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #OrangeGoblin #PunkRock #Review #Reviews #RiseAgainst #SsickOfItAll #StonerMetal #Sum41 #TheExploited

Bokassa – All Out of Dreams Review

By GardensTale

On the surface, the perceived lethargy of stoner metal doesn’t seem like a natural match for the reckless energy of punk. But the two genres have been roommates since college and still bunk together regularly. The soundtracks of Jackass and Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater mixed them up freely, and bands like Clutch and Fu Manchu have plenty of popularity on both sides of the fence. When I saw Rise Against in March of 2011, they brought Coliseum, who fused stoner, hardcore, and punk into one. So I wasn’t particularly surprised at Bokassa’s self-appointed genre of stoner punk. I was more surprised, and apprehensive, at Lars Ulrich of all people giving them the seal of approval. Do they live up to the high praise of Metallica’s third-best drummer?

If nothing else, the genre descriptor is apt, though anyone hoping for a bucket of garage grime will need to look elsewhere. Bokassa drapes light stoner riffs à la Fu Manchu over a simplistic pop-punk framework. Musically it’s closer to latter-day Rise Against or even Sum 41 than Dead Kennedys or The Exploited. There’s not much gritty DIY in the production either, which is reasonably polished and not too loud, though the snare is a tad aggressive in the mix.1 The result exceeds the term accessible; if rock was still played on the radio, Bokassa wouldn’t feel out of place on an average alternative station. The only disqualifying factor might have been the gruff vocals, a smoother version of Orange Goblin with the occasional gang woah-ohs.

If this description sounds disparaging, you’re not entirely wrong. Bokassa goes straight for the lowest common denominator, eschewing anything cerebral for the sake of easy absorption. But that’s what they’re good at: you’ll know over half the choruses by heart after a single spin, even (or especially) those that are aggressively dumb, like “Gung Ho” or “Straight Edgelord.” For better or worse, this is music made for skate stunt compilation videos and backyard parties that’ll have the neighbors complaining. As such, the best tracks are those with high energy and infectious riffs, and the front half is packed with those. “The Ending Starts Today” fumbles the chorus with some ill-advised mumbling but has otherwise no shortage of spirit, and “Garden of Heathen” (featuring Lou Koller of Sick of it All) is catchier than it has any right to be. The band even tackles January 6th with the fun “Let’s Storm the Capitol.”2

Bokassa does like to mix it up with some slower tunes, though, and that doesn’t always work in their favor. “Gung Ho” is easy to remember but its repetitive mid-pace makes it a slog, and the awkward title track lurches confusingly between different mismatched tones. There are energy drains in the vocal department as well: as the vocals work best when they’re raucous and self-assured, the mood drops whenever the rather lethargic cleans pop up, whether in solo droning intonations or unenthusiastic group whooping. Strangely, despite slowing things down and including lethargic clean vocals for the refrain, the full-blown doom closer “Crush (All Heretics)” does manage to charm. A solid Black Sabbath riff pulls that cart, and the hummed chorus adds a layer of mystery. It’s a weird closer for a stoner punk album, but it does help pull it together at the finish line.

9 out of 10 times I’ll commend a band for attempting to include different moods, angles, and energeticnesses across their album. All Out of Dreams takes a swing at this philosophy, but Bokassa has a very particular set of skills, and flounders whenever they try to spread their wings. It’s not a bad album at all; it’s catchy as hell, and at least half the tracklist is ready to be plundered for party playlists. The tight editing and short duration support the fun factor, and you can do much worse for a quick bout of low-brow punk energy with fuzz. There are just a few too many dings to recommend the entire package with my full throat. If Bokassa tries to switch up fast with even faster next time, we might get better results.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Indie Recordings
Websites: bokassaband.bandcamp.com | bokassaband.com | facebook.com/bokassaband
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#25 #2024 #AllOutOfDreams #BlackSabbath #Bokassa #Clutch #Coliseum #DeadKennedys #Feb24 #FuManchu #IndieRecordings #Metallica #NorwegianMetal #OrangeGoblin #PunkRock #Review #Reviews #RiseAgainst #SsickOfItAll #StonerMetal #Sum41 #TheExploited

Nemedian Chronicles – The Savage Sword Review

By Iceberg

Storytelling is intrinsic to the passage of knowledge from generation to generation. Within our steel-forged corner of the multiverse, a few subgenres tackle storytelling overtly: most often prog but also, as is the case today, power metal. Coming into this review, I was under the impression that the story of Conan the Barbarian was confined to the plot line of an old Arnold movie—I couldn’t have been more mistaken. The Hyborian Age is a sprawling prehistoric world designed by Robert E. Howard in the 1930s, set between the fall of Atlantis and the rise of traditional history. Enter French band Nemedian Chronicles and their 70-minute slab of sword and sorcery, ripped straight from the pages of Howard’s tales. Intrigued by the high fantasy concept—and baited by an Ennio Morricone namedrop—I dove headfirst into their debut album The Savage Sword.

Nemedian Chronicles play a brand of power metal in the vein of Hammerfall and Blind Guardian, with a bit of the barbarian stomp of Manowar and the epic sweep of Atlantean Codex. The band is organized in a classic Maiden twin-axe attack formation, supported by a gorgeously arranged orchestral backdrop. Alexandre Duffau puts on a vocal masterclass, with a reedy low register that transitions into powerful full-throated highs, especially when paired with another vocalist (“Born on a Battlefield,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). The rest of the band rarely misses a step in their performances, and their prowess is on full display in album highlight “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog,” which takes me back to “Egypt” and “The Death of Balance/Lacrymosa” from Symphony X’s V; one of the highest bars in epic power metal as far as this writer is concerned.

Good performances are only one half of a successful concept album, and luckily for Nemedian Chronicles their strongest asset is their ability to sonically immerse the listener in their world. Opener “Nemedian Chronicles” nails the requisite concept album introduction with thunderous tribal drums and orchestrals bolstering a scene-setting monologue; I’m reminded of the beginning of Aeternam’s Heir of the Rising Sun, but even more cinematic in scope. A treasure horde of music follows, from anthemic choruses (“Born on the Battlefield,” “The Thing in the Crypt,” “The Song of Red Sonja”) to triple-time sea shanties (“Tigress of the Black Coast”) to an abyssal of terror in “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog.” Credit to bassist Guillaume Lefebvre here with not only his stringed duties, but also writing all the music and lyrics, the latter of which frequently directly describe Conan’s exploits. Fans of the source material will find a lot to love here, and anyone who likes to follow clear stories in their music will experience the same.

For all the accolades I lay upon The Savage Sword, I see areas of improvement for the Frenchmen. The biggest, and perhaps most obvious one, pertains to bloat. Nemedian Chronicles’ issue isn’t so much the quality of material that needs to be jettisoned, but the repetition of it (“Monsterslayer,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). Another issue—and your mileage may vary here—is the setting of the lyrics. Alexandre Duffau is clearly an accomplished vocalist, but the sheer amount of words that need to be delivered often seems to overpower the rest of the music for the benefit of the plot; the 9-minute “Tower of the Elephant” is especially at fault here. There’s also a peculiar tendency for the band to suddenly shift the tempo or meter from verse to chorus, which makes some tracks a bumpier listen than I’d prefer (“Tower of the Elephant,” “Tigress of the Black Coast,” “Stygian Sons of Set”).

These most nit of picks aside, Nemedian Chronicles hit all the right notes for me when it comes to memorable power metal. When the closing tribal drums of “The Road of Kings” bring the album full circle, I’m left much more inspired than drained. Listening to this record led me to research the world Robert E. Howard built, which enriched subsequent spins. This is a mightily strong debut from a skilled outfit, and with some tightening in the lyrical and editing departments, Nemedian Chronicles could easily lay siege to our much-vaunted safety counter. I heartily recommend The Savage Sword for fans of the comics or power metal in general; keep an eye on these guys.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: No Remorse Records | facebook.com

Website: facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #Aeternam #AtlanteanKodex #BlindGuardian #EpicMetal #Feb24 #FrenchMetal #Hammerfall #Manowar #NemedianChronicles #NoRemorseRecords #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicPowerMetal #SymphonyX #TheSavageSword

Nemedian Chronicles – The Savage Sword Review

By Iceberg

Storytelling is intrinsic to the passage of knowledge from generation to generation. Within our steel-forged corner of the multiverse, a few subgenres tackle storytelling overtly: most often prog but also, as is the case today, power metal. Coming into this review, I was under the impression that the story of Conan the Barbarian was confined to the plot line of an old Arnold movie—I couldn’t have been more mistaken. The Hyborian Age is a sprawling prehistoric world designed by Robert E. Howard in the 1930s, set between the fall of Atlantis and the rise of traditional history. Enter French band Nemedian Chronicles and their 70-minute slab of sword and sorcery, ripped straight from the pages of Howard’s tales. Intrigued by the high fantasy concept—and baited by an Ennio Morricone namedrop—I dove headfirst into their debut album The Savage Sword.

Nemedian Chronicles play a brand of power metal in the vein of Hammerfall and Blind Guardian, with a bit of the barbarian stomp of Manowar and the epic sweep of Atlantean Codex. The band is organized in a classic Maiden twin-axe attack formation, supported by a gorgeously arranged orchestral backdrop. Alexandre Duffau puts on a vocal masterclass, with a reedy low register that transitions into powerful full-throated highs, especially when paired with another vocalist (“Born on a Battlefield,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). The rest of the band rarely misses a step in their performances, and their prowess is on full display in album highlight “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog,” which takes me back to “Egypt” and “The Death of Balance/Lacrymosa” from Symphony X’s V; one of the highest bars in epic power metal as far as this writer is concerned.

Good performances are only one half of a successful concept album, and luckily for Nemedian Chronicles their strongest asset is their ability to sonically immerse the listener in their world. Opener “Nemedian Chronicles” nails the requisite concept album introduction with thunderous tribal drums and orchestrals bolstering a scene-setting monologue; I’m reminded of the beginning of Aeternam’s Heir of the Rising Sun, but even more cinematic in scope. A treasure horde of music follows, from anthemic choruses (“Born on the Battlefield,” “The Thing in the Crypt,” “The Song of Red Sonja”) to triple-time sea shanties (“Tigress of the Black Coast”) to an abyssal of terror in “Black Lotus/The Curse of Thog.” Credit to bassist Guillaume Lefebvre here with not only his stringed duties, but also writing all the music and lyrics, the latter of which frequently directly describe Conan’s exploits. Fans of the source material will find a lot to love here, and anyone who likes to follow clear stories in their music will experience the same.

For all the accolades I lay upon The Savage Sword, I see areas of improvement for the Frenchmen. The biggest, and perhaps most obvious one, pertains to bloat. Nemedian Chronicles’ issue isn’t so much the quality of material that needs to be jettisoned, but the repetition of it (“Monsterslayer,” “The Song of Red Sonja”). Another issue—and your mileage may vary here—is the setting of the lyrics. Alexandre Duffau is clearly an accomplished vocalist, but the sheer amount of words that need to be delivered often seems to overpower the rest of the music for the benefit of the plot; the 9-minute “Tower of the Elephant” is especially at fault here. There’s also a peculiar tendency for the band to suddenly shift the tempo or meter from verse to chorus, which makes some tracks a bumpier listen than I’d prefer (“Tower of the Elephant,” “Tigress of the Black Coast,” “Stygian Sons of Set”).

These most nit of picks aside, Nemedian Chronicles hit all the right notes for me when it comes to memorable power metal. When the closing tribal drums of “The Road of Kings” bring the album full circle, I’m left much more inspired than drained. Listening to this record led me to research the world Robert E. Howard built, which enriched subsequent spins. This is a mightily strong debut from a skilled outfit, and with some tightening in the lyrical and editing departments, Nemedian Chronicles could easily lay siege to our much-vaunted safety counter. I heartily recommend The Savage Sword for fans of the comics or power metal in general; keep an eye on these guys.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: No Remorse Records | facebook.com

Website: facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #Aeternam #AtlanteanKodex #BlindGuardian #EpicMetal #Feb24 #FrenchMetal #Hammerfall #Manowar #NemedianChronicles #NoRemorseRecords #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #SymphonicPowerMetal #SymphonyX #TheSavageSword

Ponte del Diavolo – Fire Blades from the Tomb Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

I would love to visit Turin, Italy. Besides hosting one of my new favorite punk bands (The Turin Horse) who released an album with truly inspired artwork, the city’s cultural exhibits include the controversial Shroud of Turin, an artifact which may or may not have graced the dead body of Jesus. In many older cities throughout Europe, religion still plays a central role either explicitly or implicitly in the culture, even if just through the existence of tourist-fixating fixtures like cathedrals and dead guy blankets. In construction too, the opposite of holiness exists, such as that of the ponte del diavolo—the “devil’s bridge”—a medieval stone arch bridge, usually a severe arch at that. Perhaps inspired by one such feature that crosses the stura di lanzo, and a healthy fascination with the Devil, Ponte del Diavolo summons a tongue-out punk attitude with black metal and occult rock leanings to stir Fire Blades from the Tomb into existence—a new attraction for the fine city of Turin.

Having spread the spectrum of their influences across a few EPs, Ponte del Diavolo reigns in the fettering ambience and shriekier black metal extremes of their formative work for this debut full-length. In this regard, these witchcraft-worshipping Italians come across like a punk-edged, tremolo riff-informed Sabbath Assembly, with mic-echantress Erba del Diavolo capturing the same essence of cult-fearing warble that a fervent Jamie Meyers possesses. Except Meyers doesn’t speak Italian—Ponte del Diavolo leans on their native tongue for a majority of the album, and Miss Diavolo feels even more wild in expression on those tracks as a result. Though, the departure from that on the closing cover of Nick Cave’s “Weeping Song,” an unexpected duet with Shores of Null vocalist Davide Straccione, lands just as effectively. Oh, and did I mention this band has two bassists?

Don’t fret though, mood is the name of the game here. Ponte del Diavolo’s double low-end assault doesn’t render as jazzy madness so much as it creates the kind of effect that a band like Kylesa desires with two drummers—a doubled rhythmic presence that splinters in warped ways. While one bassist keeps a rock steady thump, the other might flit about in higher string fills between tremolo guitar runs (“Covenant,” “La Razza”) or recall a riff after it snakes down a different path (“Nocturnal Veil”), all recalling the bouncing energy of post-punk swings. And when these swelling tunes take a turn down the path of echoing occult rock refrains, guest instruments like a bellowing bass clarinet (“Red as the Sex of She Who Lives in Death,” “Nocturnal Veil”) or a screeching Theremin (“Covenant”) cut through the incensed air to increase the atmospheric hypnosis.

But more than just these eclectic touches, though moments across Fire Blades can ring self-similar, Ponte del Diavolo expresses tone in shifting, subtle ways to maintain freshness throughout. In many songs, this comes down simply to vocal choices that add character to the already snarling and charming tones that del Diavolo conjures. Quick swings into sharp highs (“Covenant”), the sardonic “la la la la la la la la la” of “Red as the Sex…,” whinnying inflections that pepper verses (“Covenant,” “Zero”)—her bags of tricks gives and gives. Conversely, guitarist Nerium stitches together phrases from a more limited repertoire but with tones ranging from chiming and wobbly (“Red as the Sex…”) to twanging and weighty (“Nocturnal Veil”) to cutting and frosty (“Demone”) to give each song a its own little wrinkle.

Ponte del Diavolo focuses foremost on the sultry, slow burn that they can imbue amongst their various identities. In its focus on tension and release through call and ritual, Fire Blades from the Tomb can hit a bit understated when it’s not in full punky black metal mode—but then again it’s not really much of a black metal album. The album’s aggression functions merely as a link between its trembling croons and its ungodly incantations with Ponte del Diavolo aiming for a jam-laden, occult doom akin to their countrymates Messa.1 And while this full-length debut may lack the intensity of success for true greatness in its six original statements and one borrowed tune, stepping away from its mystic grip never crosses my mind. Can someone please buy me a ticket to Turin already?

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/pontedeldiavolo | pontedeldiavolo666.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #FireBladesFromTheTomb #ItalianMetal #Kylesa #Messa #NickCave #OccultRock #PonteDelDiavolo #postPunk #Punk #Review #Reviews #SabbathAssembly #SeasonOfMist

Ponte del Diavolo – Fire Blades from the Tomb Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

I would love to visit Turin, Italy. Besides hosting one of my new favorite punk bands (The Turin Horse) who released an album with truly inspired artwork, the city’s cultural exhibits include the controversial Shroud of Turin, an artifact which may or may not have graced the dead body of Jesus. In many older cities throughout Europe, religion still plays a central role either explicitly or implicitly in the culture, even if just through the existence of tourist-fixating fixtures like cathedrals and dead guy blankets. In construction too, the opposite of holiness exists, such as that of the ponte del diavolo—the “devil’s bridge”—a medieval stone arch bridge, usually a severe arch at that. Perhaps inspired by one such feature that crosses the stura di lanzo, and a healthy fascination with the Devil, Ponte del Diavolo summons a tongue-out punk attitude with black metal and occult rock leanings to stir Fire Blades from the Tomb into existence—a new attraction for the fine city of Turin.

Having spread the spectrum of their influences across a few EPs, Ponte del Diavolo reigns in the fettering ambience and shriekier black metal extremes of their formative work for this debut full-length. In this regard, these witchcraft-worshipping Italians come across like a punk-edged, tremolo riff-informed Sabbath Assembly, with mic-echantress Erba del Diavolo capturing the same essence of cult-fearing warble that a fervent Jamie Meyers possesses. Except Meyers doesn’t speak Italian—Ponte del Diavolo leans on their native tongue for a majority of the album, and Miss Diavolo feels even more wild in expression on those tracks as a result. Though, the departure from that on the closing cover of Nick Cave’s “Weeping Song,” an unexpected duet with Shores of Null vocalist Davide Straccione, lands just as effectively. Oh, and did I mention this band has two bassists?

Don’t fret though, mood is the name of the game here. Ponte del Diavolo’s double low-end assault doesn’t render as jazzy madness so much as it creates the kind of effect that a band like Kylesa desires with two drummers—a doubled rhythmic presence that splinters in warped ways. While one bassist keeps a rock steady thump, the other might flit about in higher string fills between tremolo guitar runs (“Covenant,” “La Razza”) or recall a riff after it snakes down a different path (“Nocturnal Veil”), all recalling the bouncing energy of post-punk swings. And when these swelling tunes take a turn down the path of echoing occult rock refrains, guest instruments like a bellowing bass clarinet (“Red as the Sex of She Who Lives in Death,” “Nocturnal Veil”) or a screeching Theremin (“Covenant”) cut through the incensed air to increase the atmospheric hypnosis.

But more than just these eclectic touches, though moments across Fire Blades can ring self-similar, Ponte del Diavolo expresses tone in shifting, subtle ways to maintain freshness throughout. In many songs, this comes down simply to vocal choices that add character to the already snarling and charming tones that del Diavolo conjures. Quick swings into sharp highs (“Covenant”), the sardonic “la la la la la la la la la” of “Red as the Sex…,” whinnying inflections that pepper verses (“Covenant,” “Zero”)—her bags of tricks gives and gives. Conversely, guitarist Nerium stitches together phrases from a more limited repertoire but with tones ranging from chiming and wobbly (“Red as the Sex…”) to twanging and weighty (“Nocturnal Veil”) to cutting and frosty (“Demone”) to give each song a its own little wrinkle.

Ponte del Diavolo focuses foremost on the sultry, slow burn that they can imbue amongst their various identities. In its focus on tension and release through call and ritual, Fire Blades from the Tomb can hit a bit understated when it’s not in full punky black metal mode—but then again it’s not really much of a black metal album. The album’s aggression functions merely as a link between its trembling croons and its ungodly incantations with Ponte del Diavolo aiming for a jam-laden, occult doom akin to their countrymates Messa.1 And while this full-length debut may lack the intensity of success for true greatness in its six original statements and one borrowed tune, stepping away from its mystic grip never crosses my mind. Can someone please buy me a ticket to Turin already?

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Season of Mist | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/pontedeldiavolo | pontedeldiavolo666.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #DoomMetal #Feb24 #FireBladesFromTheTomb #ItalianMetal #Kylesa #Messa #NickCave #OccultRock #PonteDelDiavolo #postPunk #Punk #Review #Reviews #SabbathAssembly #SeasonOfMist

Vircolac – Veneration Review

By Steel Druhm

Sometimes a promo one-sheet actually does its job and gets you incredibly curious to hear something. That was the case with Ireland’s unusual death metal act Vircolac. I had no knowledge of them, but the one-sheet made it sound as if I had to hear their sophomore release Veneration or risk missing out on something unique and special. Steel hates missing out on something good as much as the next Viking gorilla, so I grabbed it and stashed it in the Jungle Room. The trials and tribulations began soon thereafter. You see, Vircolac are a very tough bird to pigeonhole with a sound ranging from OSDM to crust, doom, and several niche places in between. They’re not so much proggy as they are fucking crazy, and Veneration is all over the damn map in an unpredictable, haphazard way that feels devoid of a plan or blueprint. It’s filthy and ugly, but there are rare moments of unexpected beauty and grandeur too. In a nutshell, it’s a hot, soupy mess.

Things open with ” The Lament (I Am Calling You) ” which is 100% pure Celtic folk music with passionate female singing and sawing strings. It’s primal, powerful, and leaves a big impression. As it fades out with increasingly frantic, unsettling strings, you’re launched abruptly into the gaping maw of vicious death that is the title track. It’s scuzzy, punky death in the vein of Autopsy with abrasive riffs and gruesome vocals tearing at your ear flesh. Over the next 5 minutes, Vircolac deliver a series of aural experiences that don’t always seem to be part of the same song. At one point the bruising death lapses into something that sounds a lot like recent Dark Tranquillity, only to stumble into moments that feel like the early Hellmammer demos from the 80s. It’s a wild ride for sure. Is it a good one though? Tough to say. “Repentant” is also chaotic, abrasive crust-death but this gives way to large Black Royal-esque power grooves that shake the rafters. It’s wild and woolly and there’s good stuff going on, but as with the title track, segments feel pasted together with boogers and bubble gum without rhyme or reason.

Then there are the mammoth tracks like “Our Burden of Stone on Bone” where the band really cuts loose with their Build-a-Bear song construction using extra glue, glitter, and googly eyes. As before, there are interesting pieces to this musical Frankenstein, but the madcap way they stitch things together makes for a tough listening experience. Transitions are like jump cuts in some artsy-farsty try-hard indie movie and nothing seems to develop logically. They latch onto a cool riff or groove and then leap into something unrelated without warning. Many of these jumps are between blasting death and plodding doom segments. While Incantation do these kinds of transitions seamlessly, Vircolac can not or will not. This gives the listener musical whiplash and makes it challenging to stay focused on the madness. Nearly 9-minute closer “She is Calling Me (I. War II. Death III. Redemption)” is better, with a somewhat more linear direction, but it too suffers from the band’s ADHD composition style. At a slim 36-plus minutes, Veneration ends up feeling much longer due to the disorganized writing. I struggle mightily to absorb the album in one sitting, usually bailing around the halfway point to go listen to something less chaotic and challenging, like Archspire.

The players here are talented enough. Brendan McConnell uncorks some blistering, dissonant riffs and also offers some gonzo soloing. Some of his playing is actually quite striking and at times, beautiful. He’s a Renaissance man of sorts and his playing is easily the most interesting thing going on here. Darragh O’Laoghaire comes from the Chris Reifert school of rabid wolfman vocals and he goes all in at all times. He’s a good death vocalist, but his somewhat one-note croaking feels out-of-synch with the wildly shifting music at times. It’s the songsmithing that really derails the journey here, with a completely undisciplined, tumultuous style that tests the listener’s resolve.

Veneration is a tough album to grasp and an even tougher one to score. There’s so much going on that it becomes difficult to process. The core style is well within my wheelhouse and there’s a lot of potential, but it isn’t fully realized. With some smoothing and a modicum of focus, I could see Vircolac being a deadly force. For now, they’re just a sanity destabilizing one. Mileage may vary for the criminally insane.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Descent
Websites: vircolac.bandcamp.com/album/veneration | facebook.com/vircolacdeathmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #Autopsy #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #Feb24 #Incantation #IrishMetal #Review #Reviews #Veneration #Vircolac

Vircolac – Veneration Review

By Steel Druhm

Sometimes a promo one-sheet actually does its job and gets you incredibly curious to hear something. That was the case with Ireland’s unusual death metal act Vircolac. I had no knowledge of them, but the one-sheet made it sound as if I had to hear their sophomore release Veneration or risk missing out on something unique and special. Steel hates missing out on something good as much as the next Viking gorilla, so I grabbed it and stashed it in the Jungle Room. The trials and tribulations began soon thereafter. You see, Vircolac are a very tough bird to pigeonhole with a sound ranging from OSDM to crust, doom, and several niche places in between. They’re not so much proggy as they are fucking crazy, and Veneration is all over the damn map in an unpredictable, haphazard way that feels devoid of a plan or blueprint. It’s filthy and ugly, but there are rare moments of unexpected beauty and grandeur too. In a nutshell, it’s a hot, soupy mess.

Things open with ” The Lament (I Am Calling You) ” which is 100% pure Celtic folk music with passionate female singing and sawing strings. It’s primal, powerful, and leaves a big impression. As it fades out with increasingly frantic, unsettling strings, you’re launched abruptly into the gaping maw of vicious death that is the title track. It’s scuzzy, punky death in the vein of Autopsy with abrasive riffs and gruesome vocals tearing at your ear flesh. Over the next 5 minutes, Vircolac deliver a series of aural experiences that don’t always seem to be part of the same song. At one point the bruising death lapses into something that sounds a lot like recent Dark Tranquillity, only to stumble into moments that feel like the early Hellmammer demos from the 80s. It’s a wild ride for sure. Is it a good one though? Tough to say. “Repentant” is also chaotic, abrasive crust-death but this gives way to large Black Royal-esque power grooves that shake the rafters. It’s wild and woolly and there’s good stuff going on, but as with the title track, segments feel pasted together with boogers and bubble gum without rhyme or reason.

Then there are the mammoth tracks like “Our Burden of Stone on Bone” where the band really cuts loose with their Build-a-Bear song construction using extra glue, glitter, and googly eyes. As before, there are interesting pieces to this musical Frankenstein, but the madcap way they stitch things together makes for a tough listening experience. Transitions are like jump cuts in some artsy-farsty try-hard indie movie and nothing seems to develop logically. They latch onto a cool riff or groove and then leap into something unrelated without warning. Many of these jumps are between blasting death and plodding doom segments. While Incantation do these kinds of transitions seamlessly, Vircolac can not or will not. This gives the listener musical whiplash and makes it challenging to stay focused on the madness. Nearly 9-minute closer “She is Calling Me (I. War II. Death III. Redemption)” is better, with a somewhat more linear direction, but it too suffers from the band’s ADHD composition style. At a slim 36-plus minutes, Veneration ends up feeling much longer due to the disorganized writing. I struggle mightily to absorb the album in one sitting, usually bailing around the halfway point to go listen to something less chaotic and challenging, like Archspire.

The players here are talented enough. Brendan McConnell uncorks some blistering, dissonant riffs and also offers some gonzo soloing. Some of his playing is actually quite striking and at times, beautiful. He’s a Renaissance man of sorts and his playing is easily the most interesting thing going on here. Darragh O’Laoghaire comes from the Chris Reifert school of rabid wolfman vocals and he goes all in at all times. He’s a good death vocalist, but his somewhat one-note croaking feels out-of-synch with the wildly shifting music at times. It’s the songsmithing that really derails the journey here, with a completely undisciplined, tumultuous style that tests the listener’s resolve.

Veneration is a tough album to grasp and an even tougher one to score. There’s so much going on that it becomes difficult to process. The core style is well within my wheelhouse and there’s a lot of potential, but it isn’t fully realized. With some smoothing and a modicum of focus, I could see Vircolac being a deadly force. For now, they’re just a sanity destabilizing one. Mileage may vary for the criminally insane.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Dark Descent
Websites: vircolac.bandcamp.com/album/veneration | facebook.com/vircolacdeathmetal
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #Autopsy #DarkDescentRecords #DeathMetal #Feb24 #Incantation #IrishMetal #Review #Reviews #Veneration #Vircolac

Tvinna – Two – Wings of Ember Review

By Twelve

As I sit down to write this review, it’s occurring to me belatedly that I’m not fully sure how to describe the music I’m sitting down to describe. The four members of Tvinna, in their sophomore full-length album, demonstrate that they are many things. They are European, with members hailing from Germany and Switzerland. They are experienced musicians, with members in Eluveitie, Solarcycles, and Faun. They are well-read and well-researched, presenting in Two – Wings of Ember an album that is entrenched in folk tropes and rich in both history and mythology. Finally, they are ambitious, blending styles, experimenting with their sound, and ultimately confounding this well-meaning reviewer, who just wants to put a label on the style and start writing the review.

Undoubtedly, Tvinna work with folk metal as a base. Founding members Laura (Faun) and Rafael (Eluveitie) Fella have experience in this realm and cover most of the traditional metal instruments: vocals, synthesizers, and shaman drum (Laura) and guitars—acoustic, electric, and bass (Rafael). Through guest musicians, they add a bukkehorn and hurdy-gurdy to the sound, with drums from Alain Ackerman (Eluveitie) and backing vocals from Sascha van der Meer (Solarcycles) rounding out the sound. Contrary to what the setup implies, Tvinna does not really play folk metal, nor are they Eluveitie Mk. II. Instead, they lean closer to progressive rock with folk influence, at times reminding of Riverside (“Wings of Ember”), and at others evoking psychedelic tropes (“Arma”) for a comparatively subdued sound compared to their contemporaries and base projects. Synths are a huge part of the sound, often taking the place of guitars are the expected backdrop for the music and giving a tinge of synthwave to the already-complex tapestry of musical styles.

And yet, despite all of that, Laura Fella’s singing is the clear primary focus throughout Two – Wings of Ember, so much so that whether or not you like her singing is likely to fully dictate your feelings about the album as a whole. The album’s first “proper song,” “Dawn of Mine,” emerges from its synth-laden start to her singing—and only her singing. The song is built around her vocal melodies, eventually rising fully into a solid start for the album. Often, Laura Fella has the spotlight in this way; I’ve been tempted to describe “Irwahhên” as some kind of dark pop because the singing is so slick and so focal that it winds up being the only memorable thing about the song. Fortunately, the singing is strong—confident, pretty, and skilled all at once, elevating songs like “Two Staves,” “The Fortress” (a particularly moving performance there), and “Wings of Ember.”

The problem with making your singer the focal point for your album, and seemingly your songwriting as well, is that the rest of the instrumentation can fall by the wayside. In “Dawn of Mine,” the synths, guitars, and bass are all muted, while Laura Fella is singing her heart out. The contrast is jarring, and it feels as though something is missing for much of the album, while folk instruments are largely kept to guest spots, (“Louga,” “Wings of Ember,” “Der Weg.”). It certainly feels at times like the album’s concept eclipses its execution—though when it does all come together, the results are often great. “Wings of Ember” is the standout song by a lot, with great guitarwork, a strong chorus, and a phenomenal synth solo. Later, “The Fortress” does such a great job of creating wistful melancholy I’m always surprised when the album doesn’t end right there. Unfortunately, the following songs, “The Fall” and “Der Weg,” continue to focus too much on the singing; they’re nice in the moment but forgettable shortly thereafter. It’s honestly too bad; if the album had ended two songs and/or ten minutes earlier—at 42 minutes, instead of 52—I feel it would have flowed much better.

I think there’s a really good album in Two – Wings of Ember, but as an album itself, it’s held back by bits of bloat and a too-strong focus on one element of its sound. I appreciate the experimentation that has gone into the album, and I can hear it too—the sound of a new band exploring its sound and figuring out what works. If Tvinna continues to refine their sound from here, it’s hard to imagine Three won’t be an absolute triumph. I just don’t think they’re quite there yet.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: By Norse Music
Websites: tvinna.com | tvinna.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/we.are.tvinna
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #ByNorseMusic #Eluveitie #Faun #Feb24 #FolkMetal #InternationalMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Riverside #Solarcycles #Tvinna #TwoWingsOfEmber

Tvinna – Two – Wings of Ember Review

By Twelve

As I sit down to write this review, it’s occurring to me belatedly that I’m not fully sure how to describe the music I’m sitting down to describe. The four members of Tvinna, in their sophomore full-length album, demonstrate that they are many things. They are European, with members hailing from Germany and Switzerland. They are experienced musicians, with members in Eluveitie, Solarcycles, and Faun. They are well-read and well-researched, presenting in Two – Wings of Ember an album that is entrenched in folk tropes and rich in both history and mythology. Finally, they are ambitious, blending styles, experimenting with their sound, and ultimately confounding this well-meaning reviewer, who just wants to put a label on the style and start writing the review.

Undoubtedly, Tvinna work with folk metal as a base. Founding members Laura (Faun) and Rafael (Eluveitie) Fella have experience in this realm and cover most of the traditional metal instruments: vocals, synthesizers, and shaman drum (Laura) and guitars—acoustic, electric, and bass (Rafael). Through guest musicians, they add a bukkehorn and hurdy-gurdy to the sound, with drums from Alain Ackerman (Eluveitie) and backing vocals from Sascha van der Meer (Solarcycles) rounding out the sound. Contrary to what the setup implies, Tvinna does not really play folk metal, nor are they Eluveitie Mk. II. Instead, they lean closer to progressive rock with folk influence, at times reminding of Riverside (“Wings of Ember”), and at others evoking psychedelic tropes (“Arma”) for a comparatively subdued sound compared to their contemporaries and base projects. Synths are a huge part of the sound, often taking the place of guitars are the expected backdrop for the music and giving a tinge of synthwave to the already-complex tapestry of musical styles.

And yet, despite all of that, Laura Fella’s singing is the clear primary focus throughout Two – Wings of Ember, so much so that whether or not you like her singing is likely to fully dictate your feelings about the album as a whole. The album’s first “proper song,” “Dawn of Mine,” emerges from its synth-laden start to her singing—and only her singing. The song is built around her vocal melodies, eventually rising fully into a solid start for the album. Often, Laura Fella has the spotlight in this way; I’ve been tempted to describe “Irwahhên” as some kind of dark pop because the singing is so slick and so focal that it winds up being the only memorable thing about the song. Fortunately, the singing is strong—confident, pretty, and skilled all at once, elevating songs like “Two Staves,” “The Fortress” (a particularly moving performance there), and “Wings of Ember.”

The problem with making your singer the focal point for your album, and seemingly your songwriting as well, is that the rest of the instrumentation can fall by the wayside. In “Dawn of Mine,” the synths, guitars, and bass are all muted, while Laura Fella is singing her heart out. The contrast is jarring, and it feels as though something is missing for much of the album, while folk instruments are largely kept to guest spots, (“Louga,” “Wings of Ember,” “Der Weg.”). It certainly feels at times like the album’s concept eclipses its execution—though when it does all come together, the results are often great. “Wings of Ember” is the standout song by a lot, with great guitarwork, a strong chorus, and a phenomenal synth solo. Later, “The Fortress” does such a great job of creating wistful melancholy I’m always surprised when the album doesn’t end right there. Unfortunately, the following songs, “The Fall” and “Der Weg,” continue to focus too much on the singing; they’re nice in the moment but forgettable shortly thereafter. It’s honestly too bad; if the album had ended two songs and/or ten minutes earlier—at 42 minutes, instead of 52—I feel it would have flowed much better.

I think there’s a really good album in Two – Wings of Ember, but as an album itself, it’s held back by bits of bloat and a too-strong focus on one element of its sound. I appreciate the experimentation that has gone into the album, and I can hear it too—the sound of a new band exploring its sound and figuring out what works. If Tvinna continues to refine their sound from here, it’s hard to imagine Three won’t be an absolute triumph. I just don’t think they’re quite there yet.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: By Norse Music
Websites: tvinna.com | tvinna.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/we.are.tvinna
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#25 #2024 #ByNorseMusic #Eluveitie #Faun #Feb24 #FolkMetal #InternationalMetal #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #Riverside #Solarcycles #Tvinna #TwoWingsOfEmber

Stygian Crown – Funeral for a King Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

The clamor of zhangu, taiko, ahuli, tabor—even the timpani in a modern orchestral context—the steady hammering of the battlefield finds a comfort, an attachment to the mallet metronome of such simple instruments. In memory of sorrow, the rhythm of death metal through one of its most bass-rumbling pioneers, Bolt Thrower, finds that war-like march not just in pounding kicks but also weighted guitar harmonies and bass-throttled grooves that stir the warrior’s heart. Stygian Crown in their idiosyncratic expression of the metal arts embodies in part that low-end fueled, sword-rattling thunder. But as the title Funeral for a King may imply, and as the Steel One himself has explored before, Stygian Crown doesn’t just riff, they doom. Oh, do they doom!

And yes, that doom remains in the Candlemassive framing as prior, though Stygian Crown’s inherent aggression allows songs to propel in a way that the epic legends never quite achieved. Leif Edling came close a few times with his offshoot project Krux and the two Candlemass EPs with Mats Levén1 at the helm, but even then the heavier drive in those albums comes from bluesy rock with modern kicks. Funeral for a Crown feeds on the fervor of death metal in a way that remains understated against lurching guitar grooves, letting martial double-kick runs rumble tension separate from doom surroundings (“The Bargain,” “Beauty and Terror”). And, of course, what would this monolithic style be without a singer whose presence stands mountainous? Mic mistress Melissa Pinion belts through every number not like the extended-note runners in other projects but rather with a vibrato that warbles just on the edge of breaking in its power, akin to the polarizing wail of the charismatic Blaze Bayley. What would a great album be without a little controversy?

Controversy cracks the formula, after all. Though Stygian Crown wears their influences proudly, Funeral reigns anointed with smatterings of thoughtful embellishments to what is, at its base, an uncomplicated endeavor. Pinion steadies her lines atop creeping, distorted harmonies in a fashion that often rises, rises, and rises more. This shift from the more predictable rise and fall of her older performances allows her to find sonic nooks not serviced by the thick sounds of bandmates and encourages exploration into screeching falsetto (“The Bargain”) and heart-grasping ballad accompanied by her own piano work and a guest violinist. This guest—a performer by the name of Ann Hackman whose credits remain a mystery—also provides the discordant, tension-building “Let Thy Snares Be Planted” which allows the tectonic groove of “The Bargain” to rumble a magnitude higher. Even when Stygian Crown plays to their most Bolt Riffing tendencies (“Where the Candle Always Burns,” “Beauty and Terror”), they know how to slow the assault with a carefully injected doom verse that Pinion owns with an unmatched pride.

Pride in attack and fullness in tone, keeps Funeral from ever shifting too far down one lane long enough to get stuck. Breaking ice from the get with a titular intro, which functions similarly to a no-nonsense hailing like “The Ides of March”(Iron Maiden, Killers) or “War” (Bolt Thrower, For Victory), Stygian Crown works to rip the doors open. Sure, the proceeding “Bushido” slices fine with its own hefty bass tussle, but just as a king upon a grand throne, this style needs a dose of chest-pounding to maintain its atmosphere. Conversely, lead guitarist Nelson Tomas Miranda never lets his solos overstay their waning scrawl, his concise bars instead serving as a crackling bridge with his longest scratch on “Where the Candle…” filling a thematic role in its extra duty. And when Stygian Crown does decide to indulge for the drawn-out closer “Strait of Messina,” they subvert their own grandeur with a speedy Maiden-like coda and commanding shout of “Yeah!”

Stygian Crown has used the time between their debut and this successful sophomore outing to carve an image that reflects their mammoth goals in totality. And in a manner that often evades the execution of “x + y” acts, Funeral for a King lands as a synthesis, an homage, and a reflection of the voice of its creators, proof that iteration matters. Doom with a raiding pulse, death metal with swords raised high, Stygian Crown unites both with a triumphant bellow—a cry for the riff and a cry for glory.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Cruz del Sur Music | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/stygiancrown | stygiancrown.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlazeBayley #BoltThrower #Candlemass #CruzDelSurMusic #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #Feb24 #FuneralForAKing #IronMaiden #Krux #Review #Reviews #StygianCrown

Stygian Crown – Funeral for a King Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

The clamor of zhangu, taiko, ahuli, tabor—even the timpani in a modern orchestral context—the steady hammering of the battlefield finds a comfort, an attachment to the mallet metronome of such simple instruments. In memory of sorrow, the rhythm of death metal through one of its most bass-rumbling pioneers, Bolt Thrower, finds that war-like march not just in pounding kicks but also weighted guitar harmonies and bass-throttled grooves that stir the warrior’s heart. Stygian Crown in their idiosyncratic expression of the metal arts embodies in part that low-end fueled, sword-rattling thunder. But as the title Funeral for a King may imply, and as the Steel One himself has explored before, Stygian Crown doesn’t just riff, they doom. Oh, do they doom!

And yes, that doom remains in the Candlemassive framing as prior, though Stygian Crown’s inherent aggression allows songs to propel in a way that the epic legends never quite achieved. Leif Edling came close a few times with his offshoot project Krux and the two Candlemass EPs with Mats Levén1 at the helm, but even then the heavier drive in those albums comes from bluesy rock with modern kicks. Funeral for a Crown feeds on the fervor of death metal in a way that remains understated against lurching guitar grooves, letting martial double-kick runs rumble tension separate from doom surroundings (“The Bargain,” “Beauty and Terror”). And, of course, what would this monolithic style be without a singer whose presence stands mountainous? Mic mistress Melissa Pinion belts through every number not like the extended-note runners in other projects but rather with a vibrato that warbles just on the edge of breaking in its power, akin to the polarizing wail of the charismatic Blaze Bayley. What would a great album be without a little controversy?

Controversy cracks the formula, after all. Though Stygian Crown wears their influences proudly, Funeral reigns anointed with smatterings of thoughtful embellishments to what is, at its base, an uncomplicated endeavor. Pinion steadies her lines atop creeping, distorted harmonies in a fashion that often rises, rises, and rises more. This shift from the more predictable rise and fall of her older performances allows her to find sonic nooks not serviced by the thick sounds of bandmates and encourages exploration into screeching falsetto (“The Bargain”) and heart-grasping ballad accompanied by her own piano work and a guest violinist. This guest—a performer by the name of Ann Hackman whose credits remain a mystery—also provides the discordant, tension-building “Let Thy Snares Be Planted” which allows the tectonic groove of “The Bargain” to rumble a magnitude higher. Even when Stygian Crown plays to their most Bolt Riffing tendencies (“Where the Candle Always Burns,” “Beauty and Terror”), they know how to slow the assault with a carefully injected doom verse that Pinion owns with an unmatched pride.

Pride in attack and fullness in tone, keeps Funeral from ever shifting too far down one lane long enough to get stuck. Breaking ice from the get with a titular intro, which functions similarly to a no-nonsense hailing like “The Ides of March”(Iron Maiden, Killers) or “War” (Bolt Thrower, For Victory), Stygian Crown works to rip the doors open. Sure, the proceeding “Bushido” slices fine with its own hefty bass tussle, but just as a king upon a grand throne, this style needs a dose of chest-pounding to maintain its atmosphere. Conversely, lead guitarist Nelson Tomas Miranda never lets his solos overstay their waning scrawl, his concise bars instead serving as a crackling bridge with his longest scratch on “Where the Candle…” filling a thematic role in its extra duty. And when Stygian Crown does decide to indulge for the drawn-out closer “Strait of Messina,” they subvert their own grandeur with a speedy Maiden-like coda and commanding shout of “Yeah!”

Stygian Crown has used the time between their debut and this successful sophomore outing to carve an image that reflects their mammoth goals in totality. And in a manner that often evades the execution of “x + y” acts, Funeral for a King lands as a synthesis, an homage, and a reflection of the voice of its creators, proof that iteration matters. Doom with a raiding pulse, death metal with swords raised high, Stygian Crown unites both with a triumphant bellow—a cry for the riff and a cry for glory.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Cruz del Sur Music | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com/stygiancrown | stygiancrown.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AmericanMetal #BlazeBayley #BoltThrower #Candlemass #CruzDelSurMusic #DoomMetal #EpicDoomMetal #Feb24 #FuneralForAKing #IronMaiden #Krux #Review #Reviews #StygianCrown

Keres – Homo Homini Lupus Review

By Thus Spoke

Homo Homini Lupus (est) — “Man is wolf to man.” The greatest danger to every one of us is from each other. People are selfish and cruel. This proverb, dating back thousands of years, was chosen by Keres to epitomise their view, that, in the words of vocalist Ares, “humanity is the biggest plague on earth.” Misanthropy is nothing new in the world of metal, and as it happens, neither are the members of Keres, despite this being their debut LP. The band formed after the break-up of black metal group The Crying of Angels, honing a death-influenced, brutal black metal sound. Their first reappearance on the scene since 2016’s Heresy, will eight years of carefully crafted hatred and savagery present in hard-hitting extreme metal, or another entry in the catalogues of forgettable fury?

Whilst wearing their blackened musical and emotional heart on their sleeve, Keres manage to make an album that’s mean, headbangable, and interesting. Violent assaults of blastbeats and d-beats trip their way into stomping grooves, and minor, sombre melodies rise up through tremolos and layered strumming alike. The twisted tones of the razor’s edge technical blackened death, cut through with vicious gurgling snarls (“Eradicate the Infected Seed,” “Immaculate Incarnation of Darkness,” “Pale Horse of Extinction”), recall something like Fractal Generator mixed with Decapitated. And at the same time, ringing, humming hanging notes, cascades of urgently melodic guitar and walls of percussion (“Void and Silence,” “Exist for War,” “Leviathan”) remind me very strongly, perhaps strangely, of Hath, or late-career Wake. Shifting quickly and easily between tempos, Keres ground their compositions in recurring refrains of rapidly descending, aggressively stabbing, and fluidly fluttering guitar that compliment with satisfying precision the emphatic crashes and rolls of the percussion. Homo Homini Lupus is a fun album to listen to.

Much is packed into Homo Homini Lupus, but in a way that’s entertaining and exciting, rather than overwhelming. Infectious, spiky riff patterns (“Exist for War,” “Eradicate…”) bring the gnarly rabidity. Near-core bobbing rhythms crunch and smash for major stank-face (“Oblivion,” “Leviathan,” “Void and Silence”). Wailing, tangled tremolo and spiralling refrains bring just enough beauty to compliment the bestiality (“Exist for War,” “Pale Horse…,” “Until Everything’s Burned”). And it all works. It’s not a mess. Quite the opposite. The smart and slick use of rhythm takes things to the next level, and you can’t resist its pulse. The flexibly shifting energies are dextrous and precise, backed up by tight, technical musicianship. Stop-start heartbeat chugs duet with twisting guitar; little flourishes and squeals accent the sidelines; rollovers skip and little fills abound; climbing and circular melodies weave up and down. And that’s just the first track. Vocals are punchy, enhancing already heavy, powerful grooves with emphatic synchronised timing to drum beats and crashes (“Oblivion”), and roaring as they pass the baton to a rising, spidery guitar solo (“Pale Horse…”).

Keres keep it snappy, exemplifying, as well as the spirit, the literal nature of Hobbes’ assertion that life in the State of Nature is “nasty, brutish, and short,” by making an album that’s as tightly executed as it is brutal and unforgiving.1 Most tracks lie between three and five minutes, and the whole thing fades to a close at just over 33. This is a good thing, because unless you’re paying close attention, Homo Homini Lupus has a paradoxical tendency to slip by without gripping you particularly tight. Give it the attention it deserves, and a couple of listens, and cool little riffs and slick rhythms will jump out at you. But the sound and fury can be, to some, easy to under-appreciate, as it lacks a little immediate bite.

However things were when I first heard Homo Homini Lupus, it’s now a little hard to put down. Fun, gnarly, and kind of addictive with its endless, earwormy bounce and flow, as well as its vicious, mean spirit. For these reasons it’s no surprise that it’s also become a solid gym companion. I hope we don’t have to wait eight more years for the next one, because if things continue like this, Keres are set to release a stone-cold banger of a sophomore.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Feb24 #GruesomeRecords #Hath #HomoHominiLupus #ItalianMetal #Keres #Review #Reviews #Wake

Keres – Homo Homini Lupus Review

By Thus Spoke

Homo Homini Lupus (est) — “Man is wolf to man.” The greatest danger to every one of us is from each other. People are selfish and cruel. This proverb, dating back thousands of years, was chosen by Keres to epitomise their view, that, in the words of vocalist Ares, “humanity is the biggest plague on earth.” Misanthropy is nothing new in the world of metal, and as it happens, neither are the members of Keres, despite this being their debut LP. The band formed after the break-up of black metal group The Crying of Angels, honing a death-influenced, brutal black metal sound. Their first reappearance on the scene since 2016’s Heresy, will eight years of carefully crafted hatred and savagery present in hard-hitting extreme metal, or another entry in the catalogues of forgettable fury?

Whilst wearing their blackened musical and emotional heart on their sleeve, Keres manage to make an album that’s mean, headbangable, and interesting. Violent assaults of blastbeats and d-beats trip their way into stomping grooves, and minor, sombre melodies rise up through tremolos and layered strumming alike. The twisted tones of the razor’s edge technical blackened death, cut through with vicious gurgling snarls (“Eradicate the Infected Seed,” “Immaculate Incarnation of Darkness,” “Pale Horse of Extinction”), recall something like Fractal Generator mixed with Decapitated. And at the same time, ringing, humming hanging notes, cascades of urgently melodic guitar and walls of percussion (“Void and Silence,” “Exist for War,” “Leviathan”) remind me very strongly, perhaps strangely, of Hath, or late-career Wake. Shifting quickly and easily between tempos, Keres ground their compositions in recurring refrains of rapidly descending, aggressively stabbing, and fluidly fluttering guitar that compliment with satisfying precision the emphatic crashes and rolls of the percussion. Homo Homini Lupus is a fun album to listen to.

Much is packed into Homo Homini Lupus, but in a way that’s entertaining and exciting, rather than overwhelming. Infectious, spiky riff patterns (“Exist for War,” “Eradicate…”) bring the gnarly rabidity. Near-core bobbing rhythms crunch and smash for major stank-face (“Oblivion,” “Leviathan,” “Void and Silence”). Wailing, tangled tremolo and spiralling refrains bring just enough beauty to compliment the bestiality (“Exist for War,” “Pale Horse…,” “Until Everything’s Burned”). And it all works. It’s not a mess. Quite the opposite. The smart and slick use of rhythm takes things to the next level, and you can’t resist its pulse. The flexibly shifting energies are dextrous and precise, backed up by tight, technical musicianship. Stop-start heartbeat chugs duet with twisting guitar; little flourishes and squeals accent the sidelines; rollovers skip and little fills abound; climbing and circular melodies weave up and down. And that’s just the first track. Vocals are punchy, enhancing already heavy, powerful grooves with emphatic synchronised timing to drum beats and crashes (“Oblivion”), and roaring as they pass the baton to a rising, spidery guitar solo (“Pale Horse…”).

Keres keep it snappy, exemplifying, as well as the spirit, the literal nature of Hobbes’ assertion that life in the State of Nature is “nasty, brutish, and short,” by making an album that’s as tightly executed as it is brutal and unforgiving.1 Most tracks lie between three and five minutes, and the whole thing fades to a close at just over 33. This is a good thing, because unless you’re paying close attention, Homo Homini Lupus has a paradoxical tendency to slip by without gripping you particularly tight. Give it the attention it deserves, and a couple of listens, and cool little riffs and slick rhythms will jump out at you. But the sound and fury can be, to some, easy to under-appreciate, as it lacks a little immediate bite.

However things were when I first heard Homo Homini Lupus, it’s now a little hard to put down. Fun, gnarly, and kind of addictive with its endless, earwormy bounce and flow, as well as its vicious, mean spirit. For these reasons it’s no surprise that it’s also become a solid gym companion. I hope we don’t have to wait eight more years for the next one, because if things continue like this, Keres are set to release a stone-cold banger of a sophomore.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #DeathMetal #Decapitated #Feb24 #GruesomeRecords #Hath #HomoHominiLupus #ItalianMetal #Keres #Review #Reviews #Wake

Morta Skuld – Creation Undone Review

By Steel Druhm

Wisconsin’s Morta Skuld have been dragging their nasty cave knuckles for so long, even their fingerprints have worn off. In existence on and off since 1990, these old school warriors have been a fairly reliable if not super prolific source of no-frills, beefbrained death metal. Their early works exuded an oily, swampy charm with a sound ripped from the classic Necrophagia and Obituary deathbooks. Later albums like Wounds Deeper Than Time and 2020s Suffer for Nothing were much more furious, pummeling affairs, with elements of Vader, Malevolent Creation, and Jungle Rot in their flavor profile. The latter was an especially fragrant tomb raid with a collection of riffy, groove-heavy numbers that won the Steel ov Approval though we never gave it a proper review. 2024 sees them returning with the same lineup and overall approach for 7th full-length, Creation Undone and that’s a solid plan in my humble opinion. Can this platter earn Morta Skuld a bigger beak with which to climb the death metal pecking order?

The band do a lot of things right this time out. The album is a concise 44 minutes and songs all sit in a tight 3-5 minute window. Opener “We Rise We Fall” sets the template for what most of the album delivers —bruising, thrashy death with a nasty attitude and a big bat. As the riffs cascade, lock into heavy grooves and pulp your melon, you may be reminded of the salad days of Malevolent Creation. Some of the riffs venture into Morbid Angel territory and Dave Gregor’s death roars have a vague similarity to David Vincent. This is death metal for the old-school set and it’s effective and endearingly thuggish. Quality brutality keeps coming with the extra heavy crushitude of “The End of Reason,” and the romp and curb stomp of “Painful Conflict” smacks of recent Vomitory, which is a good thing indeed.

Track after track showcases Morta Skuld in the best possible light, leading with their strengths while hiding any glaring shortcomings. Later album cuts like “Perfect Prey” and “Soul Piercing Sorrow” bring the hammers to the poser hammering festival, with faint whiffs of Suffocation cropping up here and there to choke the weak. It isn’t until penultimate cut “Oblivion” that their steady hand starts to slip. It’s not even that the song is all that bad. It’s just less on point and skull-shaking than its peer group and it drags on too long. Closer “By Design” is better, but its doomy plod eventually sends my attention span on a beer run despite the Azagthoth-adjacent riffage. The combination of these lesser tracks causes Creation Undone to end on its backfoot rather than attacking with raging wiolence. Drop these two numbers and the album jumps from good to very good quite easily.

Creation Undone benefits greatly from the rock-solid riffery by Dave Gregor and Scott Willecke. Gregor’s been there since the beginning, and newer axe Willecke is a great counterpoint. Most tracks are fueled by pile-driving, bone-crushing leads and powerful grooves that will shake you around like a Dollar Store scarecrow. I can listen to the first 8 tracks and find any number of beefy chugs and phat grooves I appreciate and applaud. They aren’t doing anything the least bit new or innovative, just smoking your ass with vintage death tropes done well and heavily. Meanwhile, Gregor roars at you like a roid-raging psycho and former Jungle Rot skinsman Eric House takes you to the house with a brutal rampage behind the kit. And that makes sense because some of this stuff isn’t all that removed from what those long-running death groove cretins do.

Morta Skuld may never pull themselves up into the upper echelons of the death metal scene, but if they keep churning out stuff like this, I’ll happily consume it in mass quantities and ask for MOAR. Creation Undone pushes no envelopes, gives nothing back to the academic community, and provides no public service of any kind save kicking ass. The high points are quite high and only a few slips toward the end keep this from a better rating. Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good, so give this an obnoxiously loud sample. Rib-cracking fun lurks within.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville
Website: facebook.com/mortaskuld
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #CreationUndone #DeathMetal #Feb24 #JungleRot #MalevolentCreation #MorbidAngel #MortaSkuld #PeacevilleRecords #Review #Reviews #Vader #Vomitory

Morta Skuld – Creation Undone Review

By Steel Druhm

Wisconsin’s Morta Skuld have been dragging their nasty cave knuckles for so long, even their fingerprints have worn off. In existence on and off since 1990, these old school warriors have been a fairly reliable if not super prolific source of no-frills, beefbrained death metal. Their early works exuded an oily, swampy charm with a sound ripped from the classic Necrophagia and Obituary deathbooks. Later albums like Wounds Deeper Than Time and 2020s Suffer for Nothing were much more furious, pummeling affairs, with elements of Vader, Malevolent Creation, and Jungle Rot in their flavor profile. The latter was an especially fragrant tomb raid with a collection of riffy, groove-heavy numbers that won the Steel ov Approval though we never gave it a proper review. 2024 sees them returning with the same lineup and overall approach for 7th full-length, Creation Undone and that’s a solid plan in my humble opinion. Can this platter earn Morta Skuld a bigger beak with which to climb the death metal pecking order?

The band do a lot of things right this time out. The album is a concise 44 minutes and songs all sit in a tight 3-5 minute window. Opener “We Rise We Fall” sets the template for what most of the album delivers —bruising, thrashy death with a nasty attitude and a big bat. As the riffs cascade, lock into heavy grooves and pulp your melon, you may be reminded of the salad days of Malevolent Creation. Some of the riffs venture into Morbid Angel territory and Dave Gregor’s death roars have a vague similarity to David Vincent. This is death metal for the old-school set and it’s effective and endearingly thuggish. Quality brutality keeps coming with the extra heavy crushitude of “The End of Reason,” and the romp and curb stomp of “Painful Conflict” smacks of recent Vomitory, which is a good thing indeed.

Track after track showcases Morta Skuld in the best possible light, leading with their strengths while hiding any glaring shortcomings. Later album cuts like “Perfect Prey” and “Soul Piercing Sorrow” bring the hammers to the poser hammering festival, with faint whiffs of Suffocation cropping up here and there to choke the weak. It isn’t until penultimate cut “Oblivion” that their steady hand starts to slip. It’s not even that the song is all that bad. It’s just less on point and skull-shaking than its peer group and it drags on too long. Closer “By Design” is better, but its doomy plod eventually sends my attention span on a beer run despite the Azagthoth-adjacent riffage. The combination of these lesser tracks causes Creation Undone to end on its backfoot rather than attacking with raging wiolence. Drop these two numbers and the album jumps from good to very good quite easily.

Creation Undone benefits greatly from the rock-solid riffery by Dave Gregor and Scott Willecke. Gregor’s been there since the beginning, and newer axe Willecke is a great counterpoint. Most tracks are fueled by pile-driving, bone-crushing leads and powerful grooves that will shake you around like a Dollar Store scarecrow. I can listen to the first 8 tracks and find any number of beefy chugs and phat grooves I appreciate and applaud. They aren’t doing anything the least bit new or innovative, just smoking your ass with vintage death tropes done well and heavily. Meanwhile, Gregor roars at you like a roid-raging psycho and former Jungle Rot skinsman Eric House takes you to the house with a brutal rampage behind the kit. And that makes sense because some of this stuff isn’t all that removed from what those long-running death groove cretins do.

Morta Skuld may never pull themselves up into the upper echelons of the death metal scene, but if they keep churning out stuff like this, I’ll happily consume it in mass quantities and ask for MOAR. Creation Undone pushes no envelopes, gives nothing back to the academic community, and provides no public service of any kind save kicking ass. The high points are quite high and only a few slips toward the end keep this from a better rating. Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good, so give this an obnoxiously loud sample. Rib-cracking fun lurks within.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Peaceville
Website: facebook.com/mortaskuld
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #AmericanMetal #CreationUndone #DeathMetal #Feb24 #JungleRot #MalevolentCreation #MorbidAngel #MortaSkuld #PeacevilleRecords #Review #Reviews #Vader #Vomitory

Dust Bolt – Sound & Fury Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

For centuries, thrash metal outfits have attempted to surprise their fanbase by taking a completely unexpected direction. Sometimes, it’s with great success. Other times, not so much. Metallica and their notorious “black album” alienated many hardcore fans, but no one can argue that Metallica single-handedly brought money and fame to the band. On the other hand, Testament’s attempt at producing radio-friendly songs through Ritual did little to skyrocket sales or bring new fans to the fold. While there are others we can evaluate (in thrash and elsewhere), this introduction aims to set the tone for Dust Bolt’s new record, Sound & Fury. As we’ve discussed countless times, the dreaded pandemic affected many bands. In Dust Bolt’s case, the band decided to take that time away from record labels, concerts, and the noise of the business to rediscover themselves. The result is a reinvigoration, bringing back the excitement the band had when they first broke out on the scene. Brace yourselves.

Founded by childhood friends Lenny, Flo, and Nico, the pandemic found Dust Bolt completely independent of a label and in full control of their schedules and musical direction. During these last few years, they re-evaluated everything the band stood for in hopes of toppling their four previous albums and developing a new era. But this new era was led by the desire to develop one unique skill that the band never possessed: someone who could sing. That’s not an insult but an actual desire by vocalist/guitarist Lenny B. The outcome is something that reminds me of the move that The Haunted made with The Dead Eye. Sound & Fury is constructed with cleaner vocals, influences far removed from the thrash genre, and catchier choruses. That said, there are still crushing moments in many of the songs, and, for a guy who really didn’t know how to sing, it’s a rather solid performance.

“Leave Nothing Behind” is completely outside the realm of what thrash enthusiasts would expect. The opener shows a more accessible side to the band’s songwriting, focusing on a melodic, radio-friendly chorus. But, just when you think that’s all it is, the final riff of the album breaks down into a killer, Throwdown-esque outro. “I Witness” follows the opener in a similar fashion. But the modernization is even greater as the song focuses on a modern-day Metallica sound. It also contains one of the most addictive choruses on the record (outside of “I Am the One”) and builds up to a headbangable finish, sparked by sporadic screaming that reminds me of Slipknot’s Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses). While the thrash remains, especially in the Anthraxy “New Flame” and its Pantera-esque solo work, Dust Bolt is (so far) completely unrecognizable.

But the weirdness only intensifies as the album continues. “I Am the One,” for example, hosts a slew of Foo Fighters vibes and a repetitive chorus that sounds like the vocalist is saying, “I gam du one” For what it is, it’s a very addictive song. But I can almost feel you thrash enthusiasts shot-gunning a beer. For those who can’t stomach where I’m going with this review, it gets worse. The bass intro in “Love & Reality” sounds so much like Red Hot Chili Peppers that you’ll abandon your beer in favor of tequila shots. But that’s only the beginning of this happy-go-lucky song. Next, comes the distracting low vocals and backing oomphs and aaahs in the chorus that completely separates it from the rest of the tracks. But the song that had me checking my phone to confirm I was still listening to the same album was “Little Stone.” With its gentle vocals and instrumentation, the closer sounds like a local lounge act forcing me to drink myself to death with sorrow. Plus, I think Amy Winehouse is sitting at the table with me, which is weird.

All things considered, I’ve been having a blast with this album. It definitely won’t be for everyone, but I can feel the spontaneity and energy in the songs. They actually sound like they are having fun recording this album. Which, in my opinion, is far more exciting of a listening experience than 2019’s Trapped in Chaos. Though I can live without the hopelessly pointless instrumental, “Bluedeep,” the rest of the tracks are a great time. The vocal performance is solid, the choruses are addictive as hell, and the energy suggests a band that doesn’t give a shit what you think because they are having too much fun playing. Hell, you can even see it in their not-so-thrash album cover and band photo. Not to mention, we all know I am a fan of bands that have the balls to completely reinvent themselves and give zero fucks about it. When Sound & Fury goes hard, it goes hard. When it’s soft and ballady, it works. Both cases are specifically true in the title track. Sounds & Fury will exist as the band’s greatest achievement or their worst. Only time will tell.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: AFM Records
Websites: dustbolt.bandcamp.com1 | dustbolt.com | facebook.com/dustbolt
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #AFMRecords #Anthrax #DustBolt #Feb24 #FooFighters #GermanMetal #GrooveMetal #HardRock #Metallica #Pantera #RedHotChiliPeppers #Review #Reviews #SoundFury #Testament #TheHaunted #ThrashMetal #Throwdown

Dust Bolt – Sound & Fury Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

For centuries, thrash metal outfits have attempted to surprise their fanbase by taking a completely unexpected direction. Sometimes, it’s with great success. Other times, not so much. Metallica and their notorious “black album” alienated many hardcore fans, but no one can argue that Metallica single-handedly brought money and fame to the band. On the other hand, Testament’s attempt at producing radio-friendly songs through Ritual did little to skyrocket sales or bring new fans to the fold. While there are others we can evaluate (in thrash and elsewhere), this introduction aims to set the tone for Dust Bolt’s new record, Sound & Fury. As we’ve discussed countless times, the dreaded pandemic affected many bands. In Dust Bolt’s case, the band decided to take that time away from record labels, concerts, and the noise of the business to rediscover themselves. The result is a reinvigoration, bringing back the excitement the band had when they first broke out on the scene. Brace yourselves.

Founded by childhood friends Lenny, Flo, and Nico, the pandemic found Dust Bolt completely independent of a label and in full control of their schedules and musical direction. During these last few years, they re-evaluated everything the band stood for in hopes of toppling their four previous albums and developing a new era. But this new era was led by the desire to develop one unique skill that the band never possessed: someone who could sing. That’s not an insult but an actual desire by vocalist/guitarist Lenny B. The outcome is something that reminds me of the move that The Haunted made with The Dead Eye. Sound & Fury is constructed with cleaner vocals, influences far removed from the thrash genre, and catchier choruses. That said, there are still crushing moments in many of the songs, and, for a guy who really didn’t know how to sing, it’s a rather solid performance.

“Leave Nothing Behind” is completely outside the realm of what thrash enthusiasts would expect. The opener shows a more accessible side to the band’s songwriting, focusing on a melodic, radio-friendly chorus. But, just when you think that’s all it is, the final riff of the album breaks down into a killer, Throwdown-esque outro. “I Witness” follows the opener in a similar fashion. But the modernization is even greater as the song focuses on a modern-day Metallica sound. It also contains one of the most addictive choruses on the record (outside of “I Am the One”) and builds up to a headbangable finish, sparked by sporadic screaming that reminds me of Slipknot’s Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses). While the thrash remains, especially in the Anthraxy “New Flame” and its Pantera-esque solo work, Dust Bolt is (so far) completely unrecognizable.

But the weirdness only intensifies as the album continues. “I Am the One,” for example, hosts a slew of Foo Fighters vibes and a repetitive chorus that sounds like the vocalist is saying, “I gam du one” For what it is, it’s a very addictive song. But I can almost feel you thrash enthusiasts shot-gunning a beer. For those who can’t stomach where I’m going with this review, it gets worse. The bass intro in “Love & Reality” sounds so much like Red Hot Chili Peppers that you’ll abandon your beer in favor of tequila shots. But that’s only the beginning of this happy-go-lucky song. Next, comes the distracting low vocals and backing oomphs and aaahs in the chorus that completely separates it from the rest of the tracks. But the song that had me checking my phone to confirm I was still listening to the same album was “Little Stone.” With its gentle vocals and instrumentation, the closer sounds like a local lounge act forcing me to drink myself to death with sorrow. Plus, I think Amy Winehouse is sitting at the table with me, which is weird.

All things considered, I’ve been having a blast with this album. It definitely won’t be for everyone, but I can feel the spontaneity and energy in the songs. They actually sound like they are having fun recording this album. Which, in my opinion, is far more exciting of a listening experience than 2019’s Trapped in Chaos. Though I can live without the hopelessly pointless instrumental, “Bluedeep,” the rest of the tracks are a great time. The vocal performance is solid, the choruses are addictive as hell, and the energy suggests a band that doesn’t give a shit what you think because they are having too much fun playing. Hell, you can even see it in their not-so-thrash album cover and band photo. Not to mention, we all know I am a fan of bands that have the balls to completely reinvent themselves and give zero fucks about it. When Sound & Fury goes hard, it goes hard. When it’s soft and ballady, it works. Both cases are specifically true in the title track. Sounds & Fury will exist as the band’s greatest achievement or their worst. Only time will tell.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: AFM Records
Websites: dustbolt.bandcamp.com1 | dustbolt.com | facebook.com/dustbolt
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #AFMRecords #Anthrax #DustBolt #Feb24 #FooFighters #GermanMetal #GrooveMetal #HardRock #Metallica #Pantera #RedHotChiliPeppers #Review #Reviews #SoundFury #Testament #TheHaunted #ThrashMetal #Throwdown

Counting Hours – The Wishing Tomb Review

By Steel Druhm

Tears freezing in the cutting winter winds. Life’s blood staining the freshly fallen snow. These are the things that bring Steel to the graveyard. Naturally, I love my sadboi doom as well, and the long-defunct Finnish act Rapture in particular. Their style of highly melancholic melodoom resonated deeply in my cold dead chest cavity, and though they’ve been gone since 2005 I still go back to those albums regularly. When the two guitarists of Rapture reunited to form Counting Hours and dropped the excellent debut The Will back in 2019, I was ecstatic. It was as close to getting new Rapture material as we were ever going to get and they hit all the same grim feelz as they fused the early days of Katatonia with Dawn of Solace into a cold grave of an album. Now a few years later we get the eagerly anticipated follow-up, The Wishing Tomb. Can this melodoom super group deliver the same volume of sadness, despair, and depression to my doorstep and bid me enjoy of deep sorrow? Let us pray.

After a highly effective mood-setting instrumental opener that manages to wring some emotion from you, things kick off in truly grand fashion with “Timeless Ones.” This is Grade A Finnish sad doom at its weepy best, done by folks from Rapture and Shape of Despair, so they know exactly what they’re doing. It’s heavy at its core and overflowing with weepy, mournful guitarwork designed to pluck your heartstrings in that “dead puppy in the snow” kind of way. It swings between the works of Tuomos Saukkonen (Black Sun Aeon / Dawn of Solace) and Brave Murder Day Katatonia, with the Rapture influence never completely out of sight. The chorus is spun gold and the whole thing is poignant and captivating. A big part of that is due to the stellar vocals of Ilpo Paasela who excels at both death roars and clean, plaintive singing. I especially love the downtrodden riffage as Paasela intones somberly intones, “I saw the trail of stars….” The quality sads keep flowing on “Away I Flow” which smacks strongly of Deathwhite in the guitarwork and Dawn of Solace in the vocals, which is a lethal combination imparting powerful magic to the basic doom formula. Another major high point arrives with “All That Blooms (Needs to Die)” which is especially loaded with forlorn trilling and a hefty Fall of the Leafe vibe.

The Wishing Tomb offers so many great examples of gloomy Finn-core, that naming all of them would make my review unwieldy. I must however mention the brilliance of “No Closure” where the Rapture spirit is especially strong and Paasela delivers his best vocal work. The equally impactful “A Mercy Fall” must also be given its due for being so damn catchy despite its downtrodden delivery. There are a few minor stumbles though too. The title track is a good song with plenty of depressive atmosphere, but it’s overlong at over 7 minutes and its dreamy, sleepy drift lacks the punch of the album’s best cuts. The 7-minute closer “The Well of Failures” is much better and has truly monumental moments, but it could stand a bit of judicious trimming. These are very small complaints about an amazing, however. The 48-plus minute runtime doesn’t feel too vast and the album flows well. It’s a grim joy and one I can’t seem to stop getting lost in.

Rapture alumni Jarno Salomaa and Tomi Ullgrén walk a delicate line between recreating their old band’s sound and doing something new. They excel at melacholic leads and harmonies but don’t forget to bring the metal hammer down regularly with weight doom riffs and heavy chugga-luggery. They’ve crafted some beautiful moments here and every song has at least one that will bring an iron tear to your feeble eyes. Ilpo Paasela was a revelation on the debut and he’s even better here. His clean singing is much like Tuomas Tuominen (ex-Fall of the Leafe, ex-The Man-Eating Trees) and the anonymous singer of Deathwhite, and he sells the material perfectly, sounding heartbroken and inconsolable. His death roars are powerful as well, bringing the full weight of grief to the funerary music. This is a band that knows their chosen genre inside and out and crafts fresh-sounding killers from a well-worn template.

As much as I adore The Will, The Wishing Tomb is clearly the superior work. Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel. This will undoubtedly be one of the top albums of 2024 and right now it’s hard to imagine it not ending up in the top spot. I’m happy to be wrong though, because whatever tops this heartbreaking work of staggering genius will be something completely out of this world. Get this in your ears immediately and get sad.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: countinghours2.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/countinghoursfinland
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #ArduaMusic #BraveMurderDay #CountingHours #DawnOfSolace #DeathMetal #Deathwhite #DoomMetal #FallOfTheLeafe #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #Katatonia #Rapture #Review #Reviews #ShapeOfDespair #TheWill #TheWishingTomb

Counting Hours – The Wishing Tomb Review

By Steel Druhm

Tears freezing in the cutting winter winds. Life’s blood staining the freshly fallen snow. These are the things that bring Steel to the graveyard. Naturally, I love my sadboi doom as well, and the long-defunct Finnish act Rapture in particular. Their style of highly melancholic melodoom resonated deeply in my cold dead chest cavity, and though they’ve been gone since 2005 I still go back to those albums regularly. When the two guitarists of Rapture reunited to form Counting Hours and dropped the excellent debut The Will back in 2019, I was ecstatic. It was as close to getting new Rapture material as we were ever going to get and they hit all the same grim feelz as they fused the early days of Katatonia with Dawn of Solace into a cold grave of an album. Now a few years later we get the eagerly anticipated follow-up, The Wishing Tomb. Can this melodoom super group deliver the same volume of sadness, despair, and depression to my doorstep and bid me enjoy of deep sorrow? Let us pray.

After a highly effective mood-setting instrumental opener that manages to wring some emotion from you, things kick off in truly grand fashion with “Timeless Ones.” This is Grade A Finnish sad doom at its weepy best, done by folks from Rapture and Shape of Despair, so they know exactly what they’re doing. It’s heavy at its core and overflowing with weepy, mournful guitarwork designed to pluck your heartstrings in that “dead puppy in the snow” kind of way. It swings between the works of Tuomos Saukkonen (Black Sun Aeon / Dawn of Solace) and Brave Murder Day Katatonia, with the Rapture influence never completely out of sight. The chorus is spun gold and the whole thing is poignant and captivating. A big part of that is due to the stellar vocals of Ilpo Paasela who excels at both death roars and clean, plaintive singing. I especially love the downtrodden riffage as Paasela intones somberly intones, “I saw the trail of stars….” The quality sads keep flowing on “Away I Flow” which smacks strongly of Deathwhite in the guitarwork and Dawn of Solace in the vocals, which is a lethal combination imparting powerful magic to the basic doom formula. Another major high point arrives with “All That Blooms (Needs to Die)” which is especially loaded with forlorn trilling and a hefty Fall of the Leafe vibe.

The Wishing Tomb offers so many great examples of gloomy Finn-core, that naming all of them would make my review unwieldy. I must however mention the brilliance of “No Closure” where the Rapture spirit is especially strong and Paasela delivers his best vocal work. The equally impactful “A Mercy Fall” must also be given its due for being so damn catchy despite its downtrodden delivery. There are a few minor stumbles though too. The title track is a good song with plenty of depressive atmosphere, but it’s overlong at over 7 minutes and its dreamy, sleepy drift lacks the punch of the album’s best cuts. The 7-minute closer “The Well of Failures” is much better and has truly monumental moments, but it could stand a bit of judicious trimming. These are very small complaints about an amazing, however. The 48-plus minute runtime doesn’t feel too vast and the album flows well. It’s a grim joy and one I can’t seem to stop getting lost in.

Rapture alumni Jarno Salomaa and Tomi Ullgrén walk a delicate line between recreating their old band’s sound and doing something new. They excel at melacholic leads and harmonies but don’t forget to bring the metal hammer down regularly with weight doom riffs and heavy chugga-luggery. They’ve crafted some beautiful moments here and every song has at least one that will bring an iron tear to your feeble eyes. Ilpo Paasela was a revelation on the debut and he’s even better here. His clean singing is much like Tuomas Tuominen (ex-Fall of the Leafe, ex-The Man-Eating Trees) and the anonymous singer of Deathwhite, and he sells the material perfectly, sounding heartbroken and inconsolable. His death roars are powerful as well, bringing the full weight of grief to the funerary music. This is a band that knows their chosen genre inside and out and crafts fresh-sounding killers from a well-worn template.

As much as I adore The Will, The Wishing Tomb is clearly the superior work. Counting Hours have the perfect formula and know exactly how to get to the heart of Steel. This will undoubtedly be one of the top albums of 2024 and right now it’s hard to imagine it not ending up in the top spot. I’m happy to be wrong though, because whatever tops this heartbreaking work of staggering genius will be something completely out of this world. Get this in your ears immediately and get sad.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ardua Music
Websites: countinghours2.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/countinghoursfinland
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024

#2024 #40 #ArduaMusic #BraveMurderDay #CountingHours #DawnOfSolace #DeathMetal #Deathwhite #DoomMetal #FallOfTheLeafe #Feb24 #FinnishMetal #Katatonia #Rapture #Review #Reviews #ShapeOfDespair #TheWill #TheWishingTomb

meth. – Shame Review

By GardensTale

A fundamental part of being human is our never-ending growth and education. When last I reviewed meth. I was bowled over by the barbed dissonance and big noisy riffs. Mother of Red Light was a filthy brick of misanthropic noisecore that got me on challenging textures and sheer violent rage moreso than on the particulars of their songwriting. Since then, I have grown and I have learned. I cut my disso-teeth on Teeth and survived a full spin of Pyrrhon somehow. I come back to meth. a stronger, wiser frog. But the five fellows from Chicago must have grown, too, and I imagine the last 4 years must have done little to dull the edge of their vitriol. Does it still show in the music?

Yes, it does, and in a more compact, cohesive package to boot. Shame doesn’t ease you into the hot water. The very first thing that assaults your ears is a repeated chord like a stomping mech over scurrying drums while vocalist Seb Alvarez screams in your face. Aside from a brief breather, “Doubt” is a relentless meat tenderizer of incessant beating with dissonant interpunction. It sets the tone for an album that skillfully balances razorblade cacophony with industrial repetition. “Compulsion” starts off with a maelstrom of screeching and a swirling riff that sounds like a descent into hell, but the tight drumming and threadbare melody keep it from spiraling out. When the drums are going haywire on “Blush,” we’re riding a vocal intonation over the pit of glass shards. Though the tracks don’t adhere to verse-chorus structures much, repeated patterns reveal that the music contains actual hooks that makes it a surprisingly accessible affair for something so relentlessly hostile.

Shame is a concept album written by Alvarez, the title referring to the weaponized guilt that marked his Catholic upbringing. His vocal performance matches the heaviness of the subject; one has to wonder how his larynx hasn’t yet burst with the raw screaming, garnished on rare occasions with howling, desperate cleans. The screams frequently function as an anchor when the music spins out of control, and provide an emotional depth that I didn’t get from the predecessor. Considering how effective the clean passages are, I do wish they’d been used just a little more often, as Shame is sometimes given to homogeneity. Its textural palette isn’t incredibly broad, and some tracks can get repetitive towards the end. While this is an effective tool for keeping the noise easy to track, it does incur a cost in variety.

Two things help with keeping this issue under control. For one, the band has gotten far better at concise, focused songwriting. Most tracks keep it well under 7 minutes, and the few that don’t still make good use of the afforded space and avoid feeling bloated. At 43 minutes and change, Shame is a perfect length, ending on a high note with the oppressive “Blackmail.” Furthermore, the sterling production makes the album easy to listen to without forsaking the grime. The grit on the guitars helps drive the dissonance and jangle the nerves, and the mixing is top-notch, giving enough space to everything to keep it from bleeding together even when the songwriting throws it all in the blender. A bit more low-end on the drums might have helped their impact, but considering meth. is more razor-wire than sledgehammer, it does fit the aesthetic to keep the master on the trebly side.

All in all, Shame is a small but definitive step forward for meth.. Though the experimentation of Mother of Red Light was admirable, the new album is altogether more focused and relistenable, and that can only help with the impact of the rather personal concept it contains. It took me some time to fully appreciate Shame, and it’s definitely not a record for everyone. The most hardcore disso fans might find it too accessible and hearkening too close to screamo, while traditionalists aren’t likely to vibe with the off-kilter textures. But those in between, like me, will receive a superb, harrowing treatise on the evils of weaponized guilt in the church, and should find its balanced songwriting and ragged textures more then worth their time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: methil.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/methnoise
Releases Worldwide: February 2nd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #Feb24 #Mathcore #Meth_ #Noise #ProstheticRecords #Pyrrhon #Review #Reviews #Shame #Teeth

meth. – Shame Review

By GardensTale

A fundamental part of being human is our never-ending growth and education. When last I reviewed meth. I was bowled over by the barbed dissonance and big noisy riffs. Mother of Red Light was a filthy brick of misanthropic noisecore that got me on challenging textures and sheer violent rage moreso than on the particulars of their songwriting. Since then, I have grown and I have learned. I cut my disso-teeth on Teeth and survived a full spin of Pyrrhon somehow. I come back to meth. a stronger, wiser frog. But the five fellows from Chicago must have grown, too, and I imagine the last 4 years must have done little to dull the edge of their vitriol. Does it still show in the music?

Yes, it does, and in a more compact, cohesive package to boot. Shame doesn’t ease you into the hot water. The very first thing that assaults your ears is a repeated chord like a stomping mech over scurrying drums while vocalist Seb Alvarez screams in your face. Aside from a brief breather, “Doubt” is a relentless meat tenderizer of incessant beating with dissonant interpunction. It sets the tone for an album that skillfully balances razorblade cacophony with industrial repetition. “Compulsion” starts off with a maelstrom of screeching and a swirling riff that sounds like a descent into hell, but the tight drumming and threadbare melody keep it from spiraling out. When the drums are going haywire on “Blush,” we’re riding a vocal intonation over the pit of glass shards. Though the tracks don’t adhere to verse-chorus structures much, repeated patterns reveal that the music contains actual hooks that makes it a surprisingly accessible affair for something so relentlessly hostile.

Shame is a concept album written by Alvarez, the title referring to the weaponized guilt that marked his Catholic upbringing. His vocal performance matches the heaviness of the subject; one has to wonder how his larynx hasn’t yet burst with the raw screaming, garnished on rare occasions with howling, desperate cleans. The screams frequently function as an anchor when the music spins out of control, and provide an emotional depth that I didn’t get from the predecessor. Considering how effective the clean passages are, I do wish they’d been used just a little more often, as Shame is sometimes given to homogeneity. Its textural palette isn’t incredibly broad, and some tracks can get repetitive towards the end. While this is an effective tool for keeping the noise easy to track, it does incur a cost in variety.

Two things help with keeping this issue under control. For one, the band has gotten far better at concise, focused songwriting. Most tracks keep it well under 7 minutes, and the few that don’t still make good use of the afforded space and avoid feeling bloated. At 43 minutes and change, Shame is a perfect length, ending on a high note with the oppressive “Blackmail.” Furthermore, the sterling production makes the album easy to listen to without forsaking the grime. The grit on the guitars helps drive the dissonance and jangle the nerves, and the mixing is top-notch, giving enough space to everything to keep it from bleeding together even when the songwriting throws it all in the blender. A bit more low-end on the drums might have helped their impact, but considering meth. is more razor-wire than sledgehammer, it does fit the aesthetic to keep the master on the trebly side.

All in all, Shame is a small but definitive step forward for meth.. Though the experimentation of Mother of Red Light was admirable, the new album is altogether more focused and relistenable, and that can only help with the impact of the rather personal concept it contains. It took me some time to fully appreciate Shame, and it’s definitely not a record for everyone. The most hardcore disso fans might find it too accessible and hearkening too close to screamo, while traditionalists aren’t likely to vibe with the off-kilter textures. But those in between, like me, will receive a superb, harrowing treatise on the evils of weaponized guilt in the church, and should find its balanced songwriting and ragged textures more then worth their time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prosthetic Records
Websites: methil.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/methnoise
Releases Worldwide: February 2nd, 2024

#2024 #35 #AmericanMetal #Feb24 #Mathcore #Meth_ #Noise #ProstheticRecords #Pyrrhon #Review #Reviews #Shame #Teeth

Ember Belladonna – The Grove Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

I was a clarinet player as a child, but I tried my absolute darndest to learn the flute for a time (5 minutes). I found the mouthpiece simply impossible to figure out, and I could only produce the sounds of pathetic, tinny flatulence. Moved on though I have, I’ve always loved the music of professional flute players. Thus was my interest piqued by Ember Belladonna, the moniker of one Emma Kramer-Rodger, a classically trained flutist from Saskatchewan, Canada. She’s a prolific musician who has recorded for several films and video games, and now, as Ember Belladonna, Kramer-Rodger has brought her flute skills to the world of folk metal in her debut album The Grove.

The flute is commonplace within the realm of folk metal, but The Grove is unique. Folk metal often utilizes the flute as an accessory, a prominent yet singular part of the ensemble, but here, it’s the primary focal point. Kramer-Rodger specifically plays the silver flute, and frequently utilizes a glissando headjoint, where the mouthpiece can slide along the headpiece and allows for gliding, pitch-bending notes. Joining Kramer-Rodger is a cavalcade of varied guest vocalists and musicians. James Delbridge (Lycanthro) gives off some real power metal pomp, Laura Inferno (The Inferno Doll) cranks out some growls, The Darkeyed Musician sings with tons of gothic, magical energy, and Justin Bender (who also did the mix) gives a subdued yet effective guitar performance. Everyone brings their own unique flavor to The Grove, but never forget, these are Kramer-Rodger’s woods we wander through.

Kramer-Rodger’s performance on the silver flute is the lifeblood of The Grove, and it is, to put it lightly, beautiful. Her classical training is put to excellent use with clean, breezy flute playing that runs a surprisingly wide gamut between slow, Celtic melodies emerging from the trees (“Tenalach”) to lightning-quick step dances (“Ruination”). It’s a transportive flute performance that absorbs you into a whole other world. The flutes in “The Heart of the Grove” float gently betwixt acoustic guitars, beneath The Darkeyed Musician’s vocals which remind me of one of Epica’s gentler songs. The energy picks up as “Ruination” opens with the flutes joyfully dancing atop riffing guitars until the album’s high point comes in the form of high-speed Celtic flutes harmonizing with James Delbridge’s wonderfully flamboyant vocals. “Spirit Woman,” the heaviest song by a mile, employs a darker atmosphere with the harsh vocals of Laura Inferno and eerie flute melodies. This track took a little to grow on me because of how different it is from the rest of The Grove, but the song’s distorted flute solo is such a fun, memorable part of the album.

Good folk metal doesn’t necessitate massive guitar riffs that crunch with the weight of Eluveitie, but the production of The Grove veers a little too far in the opposite direction. Apart from “Spirit Woman,” the distorted guitars across The Grove are ever kept at arm’s length. They never distract from the flutes, sure, but in the heavy moments of “Heart of the Grove” the guitars fade into the background, even sounding almost like a backing track. It’s by no means a debilitating mix and is still overall pleasant—although the bass on “Spirit Woman” is uncomfortably loud—but the guitars could pull slightly forward without ruining the gentle, mystical vibes. On the songwriting front, I wish that “The Wild Hunt” didn’t prematurely end just as it begins to explore one of the album’s most fascinating flute melodies, and I’d love for Delbridge’s powerful pipes in “Ruination” to have more time in the spotlight. The Grove is only a bite-sized 28 minutes long, with the second-longest track being an instrumental rework of a previous one. I know the AMG motto is “less is more,” but I could’ve stood for just a bit more, though there are worse complaints to have than just wanting more of something.

I was fortunate to attend the Bandcamp listening party for The Grove’s release, and it was apparent to all how much passion Emma Kramer-Rodger has for her music, and that passion shows in this album. The flute may be no stranger to folk metal, but a fully flute-focused folk metal album still carries some risk, and I believe that The Grove is a success. It’s a little short, and the mix could tie everything together a little better, but the dynamic, fantastical songwriting and incredible flute performance should compel you to visit this faerie’s Grove. Just don’t eat any food the fae might offer you.

Rating: Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Self-Release
Websites: emberbelladonna.bandcamp | facebook.com/emberbelladonnamusic
Releases Worldwide: February 9th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Eluveitie #EmberBelladonna #Epica #Feb24 #FolkMetal #Lycanthro #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheDarkeyedMusician #TheGrove #TheInfernoDoll

Ember Belladonna – The Grove Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

I was a clarinet player as a child, but I tried my absolute darndest to learn the flute for a time (5 minutes). I found the mouthpiece simply impossible to figure out, and I could only produce the sounds of pathetic, tinny flatulence. Moved on though I have, I’ve always loved the music of professional flute players. Thus was my interest piqued by Ember Belladonna, the moniker of one Emma Kramer-Rodger, a classically trained flutist from Saskatchewan, Canada. She’s a prolific musician who has recorded for several films and video games, and now, as Ember Belladonna, Kramer-Rodger has brought her flute skills to the world of folk metal in her debut album The Grove.

The flute is commonplace within the realm of folk metal, but The Grove is unique. Folk metal often utilizes the flute as an accessory, a prominent yet singular part of the ensemble, but here, it’s the primary focal point. Kramer-Rodger specifically plays the silver flute, and frequently utilizes a glissando headjoint, where the mouthpiece can slide along the headpiece and allows for gliding, pitch-bending notes. Joining Kramer-Rodger is a cavalcade of varied guest vocalists and musicians. James Delbridge (Lycanthro) gives off some real power metal pomp, Laura Inferno (The Inferno Doll) cranks out some growls, The Darkeyed Musician sings with tons of gothic, magical energy, and Justin Bender (who also did the mix) gives a subdued yet effective guitar performance. Everyone brings their own unique flavor to The Grove, but never forget, these are Kramer-Rodger’s woods we wander through.

Kramer-Rodger’s performance on the silver flute is the lifeblood of The Grove, and it is, to put it lightly, beautiful. Her classical training is put to excellent use with clean, breezy flute playing that runs a surprisingly wide gamut between slow, Celtic melodies emerging from the trees (“Tenalach”) to lightning-quick step dances (“Ruination”). It’s a transportive flute performance that absorbs you into a whole other world. The flutes in “The Heart of the Grove” float gently betwixt acoustic guitars, beneath The Darkeyed Musician’s vocals which remind me of one of Epica’s gentler songs. The energy picks up as “Ruination” opens with the flutes joyfully dancing atop riffing guitars until the album’s high point comes in the form of high-speed Celtic flutes harmonizing with James Delbridge’s wonderfully flamboyant vocals. “Spirit Woman,” the heaviest song by a mile, employs a darker atmosphere with the harsh vocals of Laura Inferno and eerie flute melodies. This track took a little to grow on me because of how different it is from the rest of The Grove, but the song’s distorted flute solo is such a fun, memorable part of the album.

Good folk metal doesn’t necessitate massive guitar riffs that crunch with the weight of Eluveitie, but the production of The Grove veers a little too far in the opposite direction. Apart from “Spirit Woman,” the distorted guitars across The Grove are ever kept at arm’s length. They never distract from the flutes, sure, but in the heavy moments of “Heart of the Grove” the guitars fade into the background, even sounding almost like a backing track. It’s by no means a debilitating mix and is still overall pleasant—although the bass on “Spirit Woman” is uncomfortably loud—but the guitars could pull slightly forward without ruining the gentle, mystical vibes. On the songwriting front, I wish that “The Wild Hunt” didn’t prematurely end just as it begins to explore one of the album’s most fascinating flute melodies, and I’d love for Delbridge’s powerful pipes in “Ruination” to have more time in the spotlight. The Grove is only a bite-sized 28 minutes long, with the second-longest track being an instrumental rework of a previous one. I know the AMG motto is “less is more,” but I could’ve stood for just a bit more, though there are worse complaints to have than just wanting more of something.

I was fortunate to attend the Bandcamp listening party for The Grove’s release, and it was apparent to all how much passion Emma Kramer-Rodger has for her music, and that passion shows in this album. The flute may be no stranger to folk metal, but a fully flute-focused folk metal album still carries some risk, and I believe that The Grove is a success. It’s a little short, and the mix could tie everything together a little better, but the dynamic, fantastical songwriting and incredible flute performance should compel you to visit this faerie’s Grove. Just don’t eat any food the fae might offer you.

Rating: Good!
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Self-Release
Websites: emberbelladonna.bandcamp | facebook.com/emberbelladonnamusic
Releases Worldwide: February 9th, 2024

#2024 #30 #Eluveitie #EmberBelladonna #Epica #Feb24 #FolkMetal #Lycanthro #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheDarkeyedMusician #TheGrove #TheInfernoDoll

Uncomfortable Knowledge – Lifeline Review

By Iceberg

I have a soft spot for young bands releasing records under their own steam. With the amount of time I’ve spent pooling money for too little studio time and going through sketchy post-production just to have a stack of records I end up giving away to friends and family, I feel a masochistic duty to tackle self-releases when the promo sump presents them. Today’s lucky candidates are the French quintet Uncomfortable Knowledge, with their second full-length Lifeline. Now remember, I’m the guy who gave Sodomisery his number one spot last year, so looking past an unfortunate nom-de-guerre is a superpower of mine. Lifeline’s promo sheet promises post-metal mixed with “baroque strings and dark film atmosphere,” more than enough to pique my interest. I’m still sore from a string of fair-to-middling albums recently, so here’s to hoping Uncomfortable Knowledge can transcend their moniker and deliver an album worth remembering.

Defining Uncomfortable Knowledge as a post-metal act is misleading. Although the band cite genre luminaries Cult of Luna in their for-fans-of—and they do sport plenty of quiet, reflective moments—rarely do they approach the sweep and grandeur of the Swedes. The progressive sludge of Baroness is a better comparison, but only as a template. Lifeline contains less moving parts than one may think, featuring a standard five-piece (two guitars) with programmed synths, the aforementioned strings, and a single, bizarre injection of brass (“149.6”). There’s an air of ‘00s “posts” in here as well: post-grunge showing up in the vocal styling of Guillaume Sabatier—more on this later—and post-hardcore in the hyper-simplistic breakdowns peppered throughout (“She Was The Moon,” “Blindfolded Fool,” “An Empty Heart Can’t Break”). Post-metal hits hardest when it strikes a balance between the ethereal and the crushing, and while Uncomfortable Knowledge have all the tools at their disposal, the execution leaves much to be desired.

There’s no two ways about it, Lifeline faces a monumental hurdle at the microphone. Opener “The Earth” sees Sabatier employing a full-voiced and partially pitched shout that, without false chord involvement, lacks any sort of expected grit or edge to match the intensity of a metal band. A majority of the vocal performance on this album is delivered in this abrasively off-putting style, and as much as I loathe to single out a musician for their artistic decisions, the impact on the makeup of the album is too great to overlook. I’ll admit the clean vocals fair a bit better, reminiscent of the monotonous drone of Vedder or Cobain, and create moments of promise for the band (“Lifeline,” “Echoes”).

Things don’t get much better when we turn our attention elsewhere in the music. While the spacious production is appropriate for post-metal—I admire the occasional background tremolos (“The Earth,” “149.6”)—the drums are over-processed and plasticky, as evidenced by the painfully exposed opening fill of “The Earth.” Rarely do Uncomfortable Knowledge stray from a numbing mid-tempo chug, and that’s unfortunate because when they do on “Blindfolded Fool” and “The Astral Mark” the tracks get a much-needed shot of vitality. I reserve my most stringent criticism for the “breakdowns”—these being the simplest ‘00s post-grunge iterations of the technique—culminating in the eye-raking coda of “An Empty Heart Can’t Break.” I’m sure the intention here is to create heaviness and headbangable moments for the listener, but the rhythmic decisions and tempo have the opposite effect, coming off as hackneyed and under-baked (“She Was The Moon,” “149.6,” “Blindfolded Fool”).

There are times in Lifeline that suggest all may not be lost for Uncomfortable Knowledge. The high-intensity opening of “The Astral Mark” or the single killer riff buried in “An Empty Heart Can’t Break” signal that the songwriting department can get it right sometimes. But these instances are few and very far between. The band has a mountain of issues to tackle, and sharpening the vocal performance is paramount amongst them. Instrumentally, exploring further than the shimmering ethereal atmospheres of post-metal and ditching the dated ‘00s hard rock tropes would be a good place to start in crafting a more original, convincing sound. While I wish the best for the unsigned band navigating the waters of modern metal, Uncomfortable Knowledge has unfortunately lived up to their epithet and will need to do a lot better on their next record to draw my gaze again.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self Released
Websites: uncomfortable-knowledge.com | facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: February 2nd, 2024

#15 #2024 #Baroness #CultOfLuna #Feb24 #FrenchMetal #Lifeline #PostGrunge #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sludge #UncomfortableKnowledge

Uncomfortable Knowledge – Lifeline Review

By Iceberg

I have a soft spot for young bands releasing records under their own steam. With the amount of time I’ve spent pooling money for too little studio time and going through sketchy post-production just to have a stack of records I end up giving away to friends and family, I feel a masochistic duty to tackle self-releases when the promo sump presents them. Today’s lucky candidates are the French quintet Uncomfortable Knowledge, with their second full-length Lifeline. Now remember, I’m the guy who gave Sodomisery his number one spot last year, so looking past an unfortunate nom-de-guerre is a superpower of mine. Lifeline’s promo sheet promises post-metal mixed with “baroque strings and dark film atmosphere,” more than enough to pique my interest. I’m still sore from a string of fair-to-middling albums recently, so here’s to hoping Uncomfortable Knowledge can transcend their moniker and deliver an album worth remembering.

Defining Uncomfortable Knowledge as a post-metal act is misleading. Although the band cite genre luminaries Cult of Luna in their for-fans-of—and they do sport plenty of quiet, reflective moments—rarely do they approach the sweep and grandeur of the Swedes. The progressive sludge of Baroness is a better comparison, but only as a template. Lifeline contains less moving parts than one may think, featuring a standard five-piece (two guitars) with programmed synths, the aforementioned strings, and a single, bizarre injection of brass (“149.6”). There’s an air of ‘00s “posts” in here as well: post-grunge showing up in the vocal styling of Guillaume Sabatier—more on this later—and post-hardcore in the hyper-simplistic breakdowns peppered throughout (“She Was The Moon,” “Blindfolded Fool,” “An Empty Heart Can’t Break”). Post-metal hits hardest when it strikes a balance between the ethereal and the crushing, and while Uncomfortable Knowledge have all the tools at their disposal, the execution leaves much to be desired.

There’s no two ways about it, Lifeline faces a monumental hurdle at the microphone. Opener “The Earth” sees Sabatier employing a full-voiced and partially pitched shout that, without false chord involvement, lacks any sort of expected grit or edge to match the intensity of a metal band. A majority of the vocal performance on this album is delivered in this abrasively off-putting style, and as much as I loathe to single out a musician for their artistic decisions, the impact on the makeup of the album is too great to overlook. I’ll admit the clean vocals fair a bit better, reminiscent of the monotonous drone of Vedder or Cobain, and create moments of promise for the band (“Lifeline,” “Echoes”).

Things don’t get much better when we turn our attention elsewhere in the music. While the spacious production is appropriate for post-metal—I admire the occasional background tremolos (“The Earth,” “149.6”)—the drums are over-processed and plasticky, as evidenced by the painfully exposed opening fill of “The Earth.” Rarely do Uncomfortable Knowledge stray from a numbing mid-tempo chug, and that’s unfortunate because when they do on “Blindfolded Fool” and “The Astral Mark” the tracks get a much-needed shot of vitality. I reserve my most stringent criticism for the “breakdowns”—these being the simplest ‘00s post-grunge iterations of the technique—culminating in the eye-raking coda of “An Empty Heart Can’t Break.” I’m sure the intention here is to create heaviness and headbangable moments for the listener, but the rhythmic decisions and tempo have the opposite effect, coming off as hackneyed and under-baked (“She Was The Moon,” “149.6,” “Blindfolded Fool”).

There are times in Lifeline that suggest all may not be lost for Uncomfortable Knowledge. The high-intensity opening of “The Astral Mark” or the single killer riff buried in “An Empty Heart Can’t Break” signal that the songwriting department can get it right sometimes. But these instances are few and very far between. The band has a mountain of issues to tackle, and sharpening the vocal performance is paramount amongst them. Instrumentally, exploring further than the shimmering ethereal atmospheres of post-metal and ditching the dated ‘00s hard rock tropes would be a good place to start in crafting a more original, convincing sound. While I wish the best for the unsigned band navigating the waters of modern metal, Uncomfortable Knowledge has unfortunately lived up to their epithet and will need to do a lot better on their next record to draw my gaze again.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self Released
Websites: uncomfortable-knowledge.com | facebook.com
Releases Worldwide: February 2nd, 2024

#15 #2024 #Baroness #CultOfLuna #Feb24 #FrenchMetal #Lifeline #PostGrunge #PostHardcore #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sludge #UncomfortableKnowledge

Sun of Nothing – Maze Review

By Dear Hollow

Few albums reveled in existential despair like Sun of Nothing’s The Guilt of Feeling Alive. While punishing in ways that recall Neurosis or Blindead, it settled heavily into tension and despondence beneath the devastation. It always hinted at something without fully grasping it, fluid and powerful heft contrasting with an overwhelming bleakness. Despite its black metal influence, Sun of Nothing did not offer a bleakness like DSBM’s passing glance at a winter landscape, but represented the grey of its troubling cover art: the day-in and day-out of a cold, tired, and worn city, shrouded in smog. For its first album in fourteen years, the Greek quartet has offered something that stands shoulder to shoulder.

Maze is stacked with expectation, and it delivers. Sun of Nothing could have stayed in The Guilt’s lane and played it safe, but they amp up the punishment, hone the dichotomy, and paint a bleaker and more desperate picture than its predecessor could have imagined. Thick sludge riffs are the most noticeable, weighty affairs that recall post-metal’s more vicious moments in Cranial or LLNN, with dissonant leads that don’t necessarily dwell in eeriness and darkness as much as gloom and despondence. Contrasting this droning palette is a black metal-inclined vocal attack whose soul in torment feels like a cry to break through tar-thick monotony. A rusty edge of noisy post-punk graces Maze with a palpable clanking and mammoth repetition that drives the nail deeper, while the songwriting of everything “post-” graces the tired proceedings with a repetitive and nihilistic krautrock approach. Sun of Nothing takes their signature sound deeper with an emphasis on mood and atmosphere. It’s a desperate and hopeless wandering through the human maze, a crooked path we all walk.

The foundation upon which Sun of Nothing builds its songcraft is a simple one, rooted in post-metal. Tension is established with slightly disconcerting minor riffs and a smoky, sludgy distortion, with dissonant plucking and melodic counterbalances. Centerpiece “Ghost Maze” and closer “Buried Endeavors” are great examples of this, Isis-esque rhythms and patient growth balanced by these chords and an uncanny valley approach to melodic transitions. Elsewhere, tracks “Liars in Wait” and “Voidhanger” embrace the vicious side with roiling percussion and blackened tremolo that is funneled through this palette and warped into something disconcerting and gloomy. This is guided by vocalist Ilias Apostolakis’ almost disjointed vocal approach, usually relying on a distant shriek or drawling roar.

The fluid and miasmic movement in the thick string attack of Maze sets the swampy setting, and Sun of Nothing’s variations feel like a soul attempting to break free of this labyrinth. Apostolakis’ vocals take center stage in staggering repetition in “Liars in Wait” and “After the Fall,” his sermonic roars reaching their breaking point in brutality and viciousness across the gloomy and droning guitars, feeling nearly uncomfortable in the nihilistic dichotomy. The chuggy riffs of “Voidhanger” and their nihilistic leads feel like a steel-toed boot kicking open a cheap apartment door, while the closing melodies feel like Sun of Nothing’s only moment of crystalline sadness rather than despondence. “Ghost Maze” offers more blackened influence in rattling blastbeats and simmering tension, as its blackened approach seems to simply add to the gloom rather than attempt to punch through it – a gloom that is capitalized upon in closer “Buried Endeavors” for a sound whose droning is emotional as well as instrumental.

Sun of Nothing’s sound may not be the most unique in its blend of sludgy post-metal, black metal, and noise rock, as acts like Hail Spirit Noir and Praise the Plague bend the definition of “post-black” to include more of the post-metal heft in this way. Maze’s breed of intensity is not always easy to cut through, as every movement points to its emphasis is on despondence and atmosphere, and memorable movements can be often an afterthought; simply put, Maze will not be for everyone. However, the Greek quartet’s ability to warp brutality and meditation to uniquely paint a picture of bleakness stands apart from their counterparts. But for those willing to revel in existential gloom, Sun of Nothing will offer a haze like few others.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Venerate Industries
Websites: sunofnothing.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Sun0fNothing
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #Blindead #Cranial #Feb24 #GreekMetal #HailSpiritNoir #Industrial #Isis #LLNN #Maze #Neurosis #NoiseRock #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #PraiseThePlague #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #SunOfNothing #VenerateIndustries

Sun of Nothing – Maze Review

By Dear Hollow

Few albums reveled in existential despair like Sun of Nothing’s The Guilt of Feeling Alive. While punishing in ways that recall Neurosis or Blindead, it settled heavily into tension and despondence beneath the devastation. It always hinted at something without fully grasping it, fluid and powerful heft contrasting with an overwhelming bleakness. Despite its black metal influence, Sun of Nothing did not offer a bleakness like DSBM’s passing glance at a winter landscape, but represented the grey of its troubling cover art: the day-in and day-out of a cold, tired, and worn city, shrouded in smog. For its first album in fourteen years, the Greek quartet has offered something that stands shoulder to shoulder.

Maze is stacked with expectation, and it delivers. Sun of Nothing could have stayed in The Guilt’s lane and played it safe, but they amp up the punishment, hone the dichotomy, and paint a bleaker and more desperate picture than its predecessor could have imagined. Thick sludge riffs are the most noticeable, weighty affairs that recall post-metal’s more vicious moments in Cranial or LLNN, with dissonant leads that don’t necessarily dwell in eeriness and darkness as much as gloom and despondence. Contrasting this droning palette is a black metal-inclined vocal attack whose soul in torment feels like a cry to break through tar-thick monotony. A rusty edge of noisy post-punk graces Maze with a palpable clanking and mammoth repetition that drives the nail deeper, while the songwriting of everything “post-” graces the tired proceedings with a repetitive and nihilistic krautrock approach. Sun of Nothing takes their signature sound deeper with an emphasis on mood and atmosphere. It’s a desperate and hopeless wandering through the human maze, a crooked path we all walk.

The foundation upon which Sun of Nothing builds its songcraft is a simple one, rooted in post-metal. Tension is established with slightly disconcerting minor riffs and a smoky, sludgy distortion, with dissonant plucking and melodic counterbalances. Centerpiece “Ghost Maze” and closer “Buried Endeavors” are great examples of this, Isis-esque rhythms and patient growth balanced by these chords and an uncanny valley approach to melodic transitions. Elsewhere, tracks “Liars in Wait” and “Voidhanger” embrace the vicious side with roiling percussion and blackened tremolo that is funneled through this palette and warped into something disconcerting and gloomy. This is guided by vocalist Ilias Apostolakis’ almost disjointed vocal approach, usually relying on a distant shriek or drawling roar.

The fluid and miasmic movement in the thick string attack of Maze sets the swampy setting, and Sun of Nothing’s variations feel like a soul attempting to break free of this labyrinth. Apostolakis’ vocals take center stage in staggering repetition in “Liars in Wait” and “After the Fall,” his sermonic roars reaching their breaking point in brutality and viciousness across the gloomy and droning guitars, feeling nearly uncomfortable in the nihilistic dichotomy. The chuggy riffs of “Voidhanger” and their nihilistic leads feel like a steel-toed boot kicking open a cheap apartment door, while the closing melodies feel like Sun of Nothing’s only moment of crystalline sadness rather than despondence. “Ghost Maze” offers more blackened influence in rattling blastbeats and simmering tension, as its blackened approach seems to simply add to the gloom rather than attempt to punch through it – a gloom that is capitalized upon in closer “Buried Endeavors” for a sound whose droning is emotional as well as instrumental.

Sun of Nothing’s sound may not be the most unique in its blend of sludgy post-metal, black metal, and noise rock, as acts like Hail Spirit Noir and Praise the Plague bend the definition of “post-black” to include more of the post-metal heft in this way. Maze’s breed of intensity is not always easy to cut through, as every movement points to its emphasis is on despondence and atmosphere, and memorable movements can be often an afterthought; simply put, Maze will not be for everyone. However, the Greek quartet’s ability to warp brutality and meditation to uniquely paint a picture of bleakness stands apart from their counterparts. But for those willing to revel in existential gloom, Sun of Nothing will offer a haze like few others.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Venerate Industries
Websites: sunofnothing.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/Sun0fNothing
Releases Worldwide: February 16th, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #Blindead #Cranial #Feb24 #GreekMetal #HailSpiritNoir #Industrial #Isis #LLNN #Maze #Neurosis #NoiseRock #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #postPunk #PraiseThePlague #Review #Reviews #SludgeMetal #SunOfNothing #VenerateIndustries